


Sweet Matchmaker

by FortunesRevolver



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrienette before the reveal...!? Oh my!, F/M, Pre-reveal leading up to eventual reveal., This story is so ridiculous what am I doing?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-05-18 08:00:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5909242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FortunesRevolver/pseuds/FortunesRevolver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adrien had just wanted to try those wonderfully delicious smelling cookies and croissants, but a curious taste quickly becomes a habit. Sabine is all too pleased when she notices the patterns of Adrien's visits, and <i>somehow</i> always needs to help Tom in the kitchens whenever he stops by. That leaves Marinette to watch the front counter, and really, he's such a sweet boy, letting the two of them talk and hang out for a little while wouldn't hurt. After all, all good <i>friends</i> need a little one-on-one bonding time.</p><p>In which Adrien and Marinette's relationship starts to blossom, and all the things that follow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Visiting the Boulangerie Patisserie had become something of a habit for Adrien after he’d missed out on so many treats during the Ultimate Mecha Strike 3 tournament. Three times a week, on days when he knew he had a little extra time, he’d run across the street to grab something to snack on, and make his way back to the school before his car pulled up. 

He had, of course, gotten caught a few times, but Adrien had been more than pleased to discover his driver -- silently wonderful and amazing Gorilla --  was more than willing to wait. He’d even sent Adrien off with a wave of his large hands when he’d notice his charge lacked the ever familiar paper bag clasped between his arms. It was never explained, and never questioned, but Adrien was grateful for it none-the-less, and he always made it a point to bring back something extra to show his gratitude.

However, while Adrien had not yet noticed the almost perfect pattern he’d created for himself -- personal habits had a funny way of slipping people’s minds -- Sabine had. The same three days, always within twenty minutes of school being let out, and always with a polite smile. He was sweet, something that Sabine appreciated a great deal, mild mannered and always thanked her for everything she or Tom did. For all the times she’d seen his face on a billboard or clutched between her daughter’s hands in a new magazine, it never once seemed as if the fame had gone to his head. 

As a mother, it didn’t take long for her to figure out just how much this boy meant to Marinette from the way she spoke about him. Or the way she seemed to be unable to  _ stop _ speaking about him once she got started. Seeing the two of them together -- if only a few times -- had been enough to confirm any remaining misconceptions she might have had. After all, it  _ was _ a tad suspicious just how many pictures of the boy Marinette had on her walls. Now that she’d had the time to interact with Adrien one-on-one, she was fully convinced that something needed to be done.

Fortunately, more often than not, she was tending to the counter when Adrien arrived while Tom worked in the back, and once she was confident with her mental time-table, she’d quickly put together a plan and put it to action. 

Getting Marinette to come downstairs to help had been easy. Most fortunately for Sabine, her daughter was always willing to lend a helping hand in the bakery, and after being pulled into a few small shifts, Marinette had simply taken to stepping in after school to see if she was needed. It only made things easier, and within a week she’d gotten exactly what she wanted: Marinette at the front counter when the bell rang and the familiar face of Adrien Agreste walked inside.

* * *

Author's Notes: Just a quick note here at the bottom since AO3 has that first-chapter note glitch.

It feels like all of my stories as of late revolve around  _just giving this poor boy some cookies_.

Fortunately, this one doesn't linger around that for too long. I've already got a document a good 10-12 pages long with plans for this story, so I really hope I'll be able to push it out the way I want to. A friend of mine was talking about how much they want more pre-reveal Adrienette, and I'm a liar if I say that's not one of my favourite corners of the square (tied with MariChat.) But with [MariChat Week](https://marichatweek.tumblr.com/) coming up (and ya'll should check that out because we all know ya'll want more sin -- VOTE VOTE VOTE on those prompts!) I thought I'd let this idea I've been mulling over for a while take flight while patiently waiting for that.

 


	2. Chapter One

At the sound of the bell, Marinette raises her hand from her crouched position and points downward. “Just a moment,” she calls and plucks up another pastry to set in the display. “I’m almost finished.” Her pace increases, slipping one good after another onto the chilled tray from the one she balances in her hand. Her movements are quick, but precise, taking special care not to disturb the frosted tops.

“Take your time, Madam. I’m in no rush.”

The tray hits the tiled floor with a loud clatter as Marinette leaps to her feet, the last pastry still clutched between tongs as the fingers of her free hand dance wildly in the air. There’s no way she’d ever mistake that voice of warm, spiced chocolate. “A-Adrien?” she inhales sharply and feels heat pool in his cheeks as her chest grows tight. “W-why are you here?”

Pausing, Adrien’s gaze sweeps over all the various displayed confections and offers a faint smile. It’s the first time he’s seen Marinette behind the counter and he can’t blame her for being surprised; food like this isn’t exactly within most models’ diets. However, most models didn’t get the same workout he did almost nightly either. A few sweets here and there wouldn’t hurt, and part of him was stubbornly determined to try as many as he was able. No more missed cookies or croissants for him.

“I’m here to try something new…?” He motions to the display case and tries to conceal an eager expression. “Your mother said a few of the treats change by the week; I’ve been trying to catch them all.” His attentions shifts again and settles on the raised tongs still in Marinette’s grasp as he steps forward curiously. “What’s that?”

Marinette blinks and follows Adrien’s gaze to the slightly crushed éclair she’s still brandishing like a torch. “It’s a--well, it  _ was _ an éclair.” She pauses and looks back to Adrien and continues when he nods for more. “It has chestnut purée for filling, but… It’ll have to go in the reject pile now that I’ve ruined it.”

With a sigh, Marinette lowers her hand and moves toward the rubbish bin nearby. It was bad enough she’d made a fool of herself in front of Adrien; now she was simply ruining perfectly good stock. 

“What? W-wait! Marinette!” Adrien’s voice makes her jump and she turns sharply, nearly dropping both the tongs and pastry. His hand was frozen, stretching halfway forward to where Marinette stood with a soft dusting of pink across his cheeks. “I, uh,” he coughs, embarrassed with his outburst and pulls back, “I don’t mind; I’ll take it. It still looks good to me.”

Marinette hesitates and glances between the éclair and Adrien. It wasn’t  _ horribly _ mutilated, but her parents pride themselves on presentation and a job well done. Handing it over to just anyone wouldn’t have been acceptable, but she doubts she’ll get in trouble. Most of the ruined pastries are to be tossed or saved for the family to eat later, but this was  _ Adrien Agreste:  _ famous model and all around perfect boy. He must be trying to be polite, she thinks, it’s seems exactly like something he’d do, but she doesn’t have the heart to argue. If a customer makes a reasonable request, it is her job to answer it.

As she takes a deep breath, Marinette offers a nod to show she understands and busies herself with unfolding one of the confectionary boxes from under the counter. Her hands tremble with the effort, and she only manages to crush the poor treat further still. It’s a sight for sore eyes, but at least she’s kept from dropping it, and Adrien looks no less eager than before. It’s a small victory, but a victory she’ll take happily when compared to efforts she’s made before.

“There we go; a sweet treat for a sweet bo--” Marinette freezes and chokes on her own words as Adrien’s gaze grows wide. “I-I mean, the  _ éclair _ is sweet but you’re  _ also _ sweet, so I just--Wait, that’s not what I meant to--I mean…” If any more blood rushes to her head, she knows she’s going to pass out. “C-can I get you anything else?” 

She’d been close. So, so close to actually dropping a smooth line with a straight face. Alya has been encouraging her for a while now, and even Tikki has tried to assure her she had the courage to give flirting a try. Now she was just convinced it was better if she didn’t speak at all. How could talking to one person be so easy as Ladybug but such a mountain as Marinette?

“Well…” Adrien looks to the displays again with a thoughtful expression. If he’s bothered by what she’s said, he doesn’t show it, and Marinette can only be grateful for the change in topic. “Usually I take something back for the Gorilla too.”

“The… Gorilla?” That was a new term. Or newer. She’s heard Nino use it a few times, but Adrien couldn’t possibly mean a  _ real _ Gorilla. She hopes.

“My driver,” Adrien explains with a sheepish smile, “He’s, well, really tall and really muscular—and tough too.” 

Marinette blinks, pausing as she processes the information and feels a smile creep slowly over her face. Adrien’s cheeks flush and this time Marinette catches it properly and can’t help but think how adorable it is -- and something of a comfort too; even perfection slips up sometimes.

“But… I like to get him a treat too. As thanks for waiting for me and not letting my father find out.” The air tenses with the topic of his father. Something in the way Adrien holds himself is off; off enough that Marinette picks up on it immediately. If he’s in a bad place, she doesn’t want to push him further, and navigates around the counter quickly to guide him toward a display closer to the wall. “One of the mignardises, maybe? They’re all bite-sized and wouldn’t be hard to eat quickly if he’s hungry now. They don’t make much of a mess either.”

“They look good…” Adrien murmurs, oblivious to the way his eyes shine as he looks over each treat in turn. How Marinette could have turned so many of them down is beyond his understanding; though when one lives with something all their life, the glamour tends to be lost. Still, he already felt he was abusing the bakery’s close location with how close it was to school.

“…fruits.”

“Huh?”

“Tartelettes aux fruits,” Marinette repeats and points to a line of tarts in the middle. She prays he doesn’t notice the shaking of her hand as he leans in and she struggles to maintain her focus. Adrien is suddenly close;  _ much _ closer than she’s accustomed to him being -- close enough that if she were to lean forward just a little bit, their heads would bump. If only he’d turn to look at her, then she could lean in and--no. The thoughts are banished almost immediately. She needs to  _ focus _ . She was working, in her  _ family’s _ bakery no less. Messing around with daydreams was unacceptable. “They’re all bite-sized and not too messy, but I could pack extra napkins… I-I mean if that would help—Not that I think either of you are messy but since he might not want to stand outside to eat and—”

“I’ll take three.” Adrien smiles and points to the glass eagerly. “Raspberry, and the mixed fruit, and…” he trails off and brings a finger to his chin in thought.

“...strawberry and kiwi is good,” Marinette chimes in quietly as she moves back around the counter to collect his order. “I mean—that’s are one of my favourites as far as tartelettes go.”

“Strawberry-kiwi it is then,” Adrien smiles and his eyes soften as he watches each tart tucked away with gentle care. “Thank you, Marinette.”

“N-no problem. I just—oh, um, here, your total and—let me to get those napkins. I-I need to restock up here anyway.” Marinette stumbles into the back with a yelp and buries her face in her hands the moment she’s out of view. It’s the first time Adrien’s seen her at work and she’s been fumbling about so badly she almost ruined one of the treats she’d just packed. He must think she’s so clumsy -- and her habits at school do little to redeem her image -- and now he was going to start avoiding the bakery because who wants to pay for crushed pastries? Then people would surely see it and think her parents must not care and the bakery would--

“Having fun with your friend?” 

“Mama!”

Sabine hums in delight as she holds out several napkins folded in half and a small bag. “Did he find something he liked?”

“ _ Mama, _ ” Marinette groans and takes both items with a frown. “You did this on purpose!”

“Did what?” Sabine smiles and lets her weight fall sideways as Tom walks up beside her. “Your father needed help in the back and we can’t just leave the front unattended. What if someone were to walk in?”

“It’s bad for business,” Tom adds with an expression far less convincing than Sabine’s calm smile and at least twice as devious. “But since the macarons were cooled and ready to go, we thought he might like to take a few of them along.”

_ “Mama, papa… _ ”

“He  _ has _ been such a loyal customer as of late. I’d feel terrible to not show him how grateful we are. Our business has gone up since people have noticed him coming in.”

Marinette frowns and crosses her arms. She’s not buying any of her parents excuses, and somehow, she doesn’t think they care, but Sabine steps forward before she can protest and urges Marinette back to the front. “Go on then,” she gives another small push and smiles. “You don’t want to keep a customer waiting.”

If she had more time, Marinette might have protested, but something else catches her attention as she moves to the counter. Her mother said Adrien was a loyal customer; Adrien himself had said he checked the weekly specials. Which undoubtedly mean he came to the bakery often. Often meant frequent and frequent meant… more time to see Adrien! And without Chloé to interfere!

Marybe good luck is starting to work in her favour.

“Sorry for the wait,” sets the napkins atop the pastry box and pushes it forward, placing the small bag beside it. “These are from my parents -- as a thank you.”

The look in Adrien’s eyes is like someone has flipped a switch behind them. He moves forward and scoops the items up gently with a wide smile. “Really?” He looks up and Marinette swears her legs would give out if she’d not been leaning against the counter. How could anyone make a smile look so  _ amazing? _ But of cousre, he was Adrien. There was nothing he did that looked bad. “Thank you! Thank your parents for me too--I’d stay, but… I should get going. I’m sure the Gorilla is starting to get restless. I’ll see you at school tomorrow?”

“Y-yeah,” Marinette nods and raises her hand in a small wave. “I’ll come to school to see—I mean! See you!  _ I’ll _ see you! In class! Since we—oh man…” She’s (almost) been doing so well. “I’ll… see you tomorrow.”

AS the door shuts behind Adrien, Marinette’s forehead connects with the counter and a dull thud mixes with a soft groan. She’s managed to make a fool of herself in all of ten minutes, and it would be a miracle if Adrien ever returns when she’s behind the counter. Next time, she plans to just offer to help her father instead.

“Oh, I like him,” Sabine grins as she stands beside Marinette and pats her shoulders gently. “You’ve picked a good one – make sure to invite him for dinner next time.”

“Or forever,” Tom calls from the back, “I think Marinette would like that.”

“Papa!”

“Oh no, they’d have to finish collège first. Just like we had to.”

_ “Mama!” _

“Ah, true, true,” Tom nods slowly and rubs his hands with a towel. “But they  _ are  _ in their last year. We might be saying goodbye to our sweet little girl before we know it.”

“How time flies for the young and in love.”

Marinette’s second groan gets downed by laughter as a small hand thumps against her leg from the inside of her purse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, admittedly, not a lot of action in this chapter, but it's mostly for scene-setting, just like the prologue. Fortunately, the plot should pick up in the next chapter. Unless people like this one too. Then so much the better for it.
> 
> Ultimately, I really do have a plan for where I wanted this story to go, but I didn't want to go and dump a lot of different things in Chapter One, which is why I split this from the prologue. Either way, if people are interested in where this is going, then so much the better. 
> 
> This is my first (planned) multi-chapter Ladybug fic, so comments are always appreciated to know if I'm going about it the right way. ~~And my first past-tense story in a long time, good lord. I've gotten way too used to present-tense.~~


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in the end, I ultimately decided that I wrote better in present tense... That's not really bad or good, but I felt like I should write how I'm most comfortable to try and offer the best quality.
> 
> I went back and edited chapter one to follow the same format, so there's that too. Nothing changed plot-wise, just the format, mostly.

The next two weeks had Marinette floating through them in a daze. Two weeks of suspiciously timed breaks from her mother, two weeks of visits from Adrien, and two weeks of conversations, each one longer than the last. Their conversations at school were brief, but met with smiles and fleeting glances. A quiet comfort had settled between the two of them, with a sense of ease that left Nino and Alya scrambling to try and catch what they’d missed.

“Girl, what is up with you and Adrien lately?” Alya frowns and leans heavily against the surface of their shared desks as the bell rings out in the background, signalling the end of the day. Her expression is tight, eyebrows drawn together with eyes narrowed in suspicion.  “You’re both all… weird lately.”

 _“Weird?”_ Marinette frowns, her lip protruding slightly as she slides her tablet into her bag and stands up. “We’re not weird at all, Alya.”

“No, I’d say you’re a lot more than that. Now spill.”

“I _mean_ ,” Alya leaned forward to peer closely at Marinette’s face, “that you and Adrien are all buddy-buddy lately. Since when do you two walk home?”

 _One week_ , was the answer Marinette almost gave. The Monday following the first week of her encounters with Adrien while helping in the bakery, she’d stepped outside to see him waiting for her; tall, beautiful, and embarrassed of all things. He’d asked if they could walk to school together, and from that moment on, it had simply become habit – but she couldn’t tell Alya that. Not yet. She was still reeling from it all herself.

“That’s not—I mean, it is, but it’s not _that_.”

“Then what _is_ it?” With a gentle nudge, Alya urges Marinette forward and down the steps to leave class. Her steps are quick and careful, keeping as close to Marinette’s side as she can without tripping her. She can’t investigate if her target runs away, and she’s not about to give Marinette the chance – even if she does just live across the street.

“Adrien just…” Marinette trails off and tightens her grip on her bag, “He comes to the bakery once in a while to try out new things. That’s all.”

 _"Things,_ huh?”

“A-Alya!” Pink stains Marinette’s cheek in seconds, the hue complementing the soft polka dots of her jacket. “It’s not like that at all! He just stops by to try new pastries and talk, geez… You’re worse than my parents.”

“Mmhm,” Alya nods, a dangerous gleam to her eyes that makes Marinette nervous.  No one on the receiving end of that look has ever managed to escape unscathed, and her need to escape grows.

“Alyaaa…” Marinette’s flush deepens as she draws out the ‘a’ in a whine of protest. The afternoon sun momentarily blinds her as they step outside and she raises a hand to shield her eyes and the sudden need to squint ruins her attempts to look pitiful. “Nothing is going to happen. We’re just _friends_.”

“Sure, sure. That’s where it starts, but I’ll leave you two alone. Looks like loverboy is waiting for you.”

“He’s not my--oh, nevermind…” It was a losing battle and Marintte knows it all too well. Once Alya dug her teeth into something, there was no stopping her. More often than not, it was just better to let her sniff around until satisfied than try to run away. As a rising journalist, she had an uncanny ability to hunt down and find anyway who tried – and she couldn’t deny that part of her desperately wishes Alya was right.

“Good afternoon, Marinette.” The voice tugs Marinette from her thoughts and she looks up, feeling a rush of relief swarm her chest to join the butterflies as Adrien smiles at her. His head turns as he murmurs something she doesn’t catch to Nino before stepping away and moving closer to her. Their hands brush and Marinette feels her heart flutter in delight. “All finished?”

“Mmhm,” she nods, adjusting the straps of her backpack as she slides it on, “thanks for waiting.”

“Of course,” Adrien’s smile grows, “it wouldn’t be—”

“ _Yeah, well,”_ Alya raises her voice and thumps Marinette gently on the shoulder with one hand while grabbing Nino’s shoulder with the other. “I’ll leave you two _friends_ to your _things_. Nino! You’re with me. You said you’d help me set up my new laptop.”

“I did?” Nino looks up, perplexed, “I don’t remember saying tha—gulk! Hey! Hey! No pulling! Alya!”

Adrien watches in silence as his best friend is dragged away with a look somewhere between amusement and confusion. “Do you think they’ll be alright?”

“They’ll be fine,” Marinette sighs and shakes her head. “Alya’s just being, well, Alya. Don’t worry about it.” It isn’t as if there’s an easy way to tell Adrien Alya is trying to set them up. Not without making a fool of herself at least six different ways. “B-but, um, if you’re ready—I’m sure mama and papa are waiting for us.”

* * *

“There you two are. Welcome home.” Sabine smiles as the bell rings and the two teens enter the bakery. Her gaze lingers on Adrien briefly, offering him an extra nod before it settles on Marinette and something sparks in her eyes. It’s too familiar and too much like Alya; a knowing gleam she can’t escape. “Marinette, can you take over for a few minutes? I need to check on your father.”

Marinette’s eyes narrow in suspicion, but she is barely able to voice a confirmation before her mother has already disappeared. With a sigh, she lets her shoulders sag and catches her backpack as it begins to slide off. It’s routine by now, and she knows she’ll be released soon, but it doesn’t stop the faint disappointment that she still has to act professional. Just in case someone else walks in.

“You help out a lot,” Adrien hums thoughtfully and approaches the counter. His eyes dance over the various displays, but his focus quickly settles back on Marinette and stays there. “It always looks like fun.”

“…I think she has suspiciously timed breaks.” Marinette scowls, but the look is gone as soon as it forms and a gentle smile takes its place. Without a word she swoops down and picks up a box and begins to unfold it, looking up at Adrien as she does. “So…” she trails off and pauses briefly before bracing herself and forcing the words to continue. “What will it be for our dearest customer today?” It’s not quite flirting, but close enough, and she thinks Alya would be proud that, for once, she hadn’t stuttered. The effect it has on Adrien is instantaneous, however, and she feels her chest swell as his eyes widen in surprise.

“I, ah…” he coughs and looks around, offering a sheepish shrug. No matter how many times he comes, the selection is still incredibly vast and filled with things he’d knows would make his dietitian _faint_ if they saw how often he consumed it. He was fortunate that he had a means of hiding the evidence so easily; fighting akuma did burn a fair few calories. “What do you suggest today?”

“Um, well…” Marinette barely gets a word out before a large hand falls on her shoulder and cuts her off. Behind her, Tom looks between the two of them with a much-too-innocent smile and makes a sweeping gesture with his free arm.

“Your mother and I have just about finished up another batch of pain au chocolat,” he says, grinning. “They’re best eaten when warm; why don’t you two go upstairs and relax for a little while? I’ll bring them up when they’re done.”

“Wh-what?” Marinette gasps and looks up, feeling her pulse start to flutter. She doesn’t _not_ want Adrien upstairs, but his pictures are back up on her walls and the thought of being _alone_ in her family’s small apartment with _Adrien Agreste_ is still enough to make her feel dizzy. “But papa—”

“I’d invite you two to the back, but it’s a bit messy right now as we’re reorganizing it all. Can’t start preparing too soon.”

“Preparing?” Adrien murmurs, looking between Marinette and her father with faint curiosity, but it’s quickly lost when Marinette shakes her head. “I mean, I don’t want to intrude, Monsieur, I—”

“Nonsense,” Tom shakes his head and guides Marinette around the counter, catching Adrien along the way to urge both of them toward the door. “Now, you two go make yourselves comfortable. I’ll bring snacks up shortly.” 

Another nudge is all it takes to get them outside, and they stumble forward as Tom gives them a jovial wave and hurries back to the counter. Marinette’s releases her frustrations with a long, slow sigh and motions for Adrien to follow her. If they try to go back inside, she knows Tom will only intercept them a second time, and she doesn’t want Adrien anymore uncomfortable than he already looks – after all he must be incredibly embarrassed, if the colour of his cheeks are anything to go by. 

They walk up the stairs in silence as Marinette tries to calm the rapid fluttering of her heart and Adrien sends out a text to let Natalie and the Gorilla know he’ll be home later than expected. It’s a welcome relief on his part, and he would more than willingly spend time with friends than seek his own comforts in an empty house. 

When they reach the door, Marinette opens it wordlessly and steps back, motioning for Adrien to go inside, only to have him smile gently and guide her forward with a gentle hand at the small of her back. Ever the gentleman; a lady goes through the door first, and she feels heat begin to spread outward from the faint pressure of his fingertips. He moves away soon after and she quickly hides the disappointment on her face, the pull away is all too soon, but she distracts herself by setting her bag gingerly on the couch.

“I’m sorry about my dad,” she sighs and rubs absently at her arms.

“Don’t be,” Adrien responds, lingering near the stairs. He’s been here a few times before, but only deep into the main room once – and he’d been wearing a mask then. He finds what he’s looking for almost immediately and moves closer to the nearby bookcase, his gaze settling on a picture frame that hasn’t moved since his last visit. Their smiles, he thinks, are warm, with all three of the Dupain-Cheng family pressed closely together and leaning against one another. He can think of only one photograph of his own that looks even a fraction as inviting, but the other half of his has been gone for a long time.

Unlike the two people downstairs, he’s left with only a moment in time preserved under glass. “It seems like you’re always able to have a lot of fun at home.”

“Sometimes,” Marinette rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. It feels like the videogame tournament all over again. “But really, they’re too pushy sometimes… It’s alright if you want to go. I’ll tell papa you had something to take care of.”

“No… it’s alright,” Adrien doesn’t look away from the photo, but his expression falls, and Marinette’s gaze snaps up as his tone shifts to something soft and distant. “…at least they care enough to push…”

The last few words come out as a murmur, and Marinette isn’t certain she was supposed to hear them. Her heart falls with Adrien’s shoulders and she watches as they pull in, the hands at his sides curling into loose fists. Something in his eyes wavers, and with it, a crack suddenly appears in the image of the endlessly warm and gentle boy of perfection she’d come to admire so dearly.

For a moment, she wants to apologise. To correct herself and assure him she knows her father cares, but it doesn’t seem like the right thing to say. She’s heard more than a few things – rumours, whispers, and the bitter complaints of Nino – about his father, and prying into that doesn’t seem right. If he wants to talk, to open himself, she’d rather let him do that in his own time. Model or not, Adrien is just as human as she is, and she silently scolds herself for forgetting that.

“Adrien,” Marinette begins softly and moves around the couch to place a hand on his shoulder. “I… Papa was right; you’re always welcome here. I-I mean, if you… if you ever need somewhere to go or food, o-or… or if you just need a friend, then…”

Without warning, Adrien inhales sharply, taking in a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding the entire time. His eyes sting, but he blinks the feeling away and turns his head, bringing a hand up to rest stop Marinette’s. He can feel his throat constricting, fighting against the build-up of emotion the simple words threaten to pour out, but he forces it away with a gentle smile. “…thank you,” he manages in a raspy whisper, and if Marinette notices the waver in his voice, he’s grateful she doesn’t address it. 

“You—” Marinette’s words are cut off with a yelp as the door flies open and she jumps back. Pink washes over her face as Sabine enters balancing a plate in one hand and grips the doorknob with the other. She looks between the two children with a feigned look of curiosity and brings a hand to her face.

“Oh my…” she gasps, and fails to hide a smile. “Did I interrupt something?” Both Marinette and Adrien break into scrambled, broken protests, but Sabine waves them off with a flick of her wrist and steps into the kitchen.

The pain au chocolat is still steaming and Adrien’s stomach releases a soft, pleading grumble. Beside him, Marinette hears the sound and giggles softly, earning a faint red hue across his cheeks as he rubs the back of his head. Sabine’s smile only grows as she leans against the fridge and looks at the two teens with playful mirth in her eyes. “You know,” she begins, her tone light, casual, “you can eat upstairs in Marinette’s room. I’m sure it’s much more entertaining up there – though you’d have to leave the door open.”

“M-mama!” Marinette looks scandalised as Sabine scoops a pastry up and slips it into Adrien’s hands as she heads back for the door. 

It isn’t until after the soft ‘click’ of the door sounds that the true meaning behind Sabine’s words hits Adrien full force and he inhales sharply, taking several bits of bread with it. Startled, Marinette flies across the room and fills a glass with water. She rushes back to Adrien and rubs his back, offering him the glass. Several gulps later, silence settles over the room before their eyes meet. It takes a few seconds, but the soft rumble that builds in their chests bubbles over, and laughter fills the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually really enjoyed writing this chapter, so I'm kind of excited to see what people think. I've got the rest of the story planned out already, so here's hoping that'll help push out chapters a little faster. But I wanted to thank everyone for their Kudos and comments; I read every single one and each one makes me even more grateful than the last.
> 
> Also, looking up French pastries and sweets is a dangerous business. It makes you really damn hungry. Ya'll have no idea how badly I want some chocolate bread and macarons now...


	4. Chapter Three

The rest of the week passes by Marinette slowly, and it’s only on days when Adrien is able to walk home with her after school that feel as if time is passing by quickly. She does, of course, walk with Alya on most other days, but those neither speed nor slow time; they are a natural part of her life she’s had for so long. Not that she’s ungrateful, but lately Alya has been watching her closely and taking almost every chance she is able to interrogate Marinette about what she has dubbed “Mari’s Special Treat Time.”

So when she comes downstairs and finds her mother in the kitchen preparing tea, only to be told someone is waiting outside, Marinette steels herself for another round of questioning and hurries out the door.

“Good morning, Marinette.”

“Good mor—Adrien!” Marinette’s eyes widen in surprise as Adrien meets her alarm with a calm, but sheepish smile. His hand moves up to rub the back of his head – a nervous habit, she’s come to learn – and for a moment, he looks uncertain with his being there.

“I asked the Gorilla if he could drop me off here instead,” he explains as his fingers flex around the strap of his bag. “Nino said he was running late, and I thought we could walk together.”

In a brief moment of irrationality, Marinette almost pinches herself to see if she’s dreaming. Before her fingers can reach her skin, she receives a solid _thump_ against the side of her thigh from her bag and she inhales sharply. “T-that’d be great…!” she cries, her voice just a little too loud and causes Adrien to jump. “O-oh, I—sorry. Um, I just meant… I’d really like that.” It’s only across the street, less than a stone’s throw away, but Adrien has taken the time to come to her home, to walk up to her _apartment_ , just to see if she’d like to walk with him.

Maybe she really should pinch herself.

Her answer seems to relax him, and with a soft smile, he inclines his head and gestures to the stairs with a playful flourish. “Well then, ladies first.”

With a small smile, Marinette moves toward the stairs with Adrien close behind. By the time they reach the first landing, they’ve fallen in step with each other and move side-by-side. It’s quiet, the air between them bordering on comfort and awkward as each tries to find a means of breaking the silence. Adrien’s gaze settles on Marinette’s hands and watches as they wring together in uncertainty before a topic springs to mind and he eases out another smile.

“How is your skirt coming along?” he asks, and Marinette turns, looking surprised with the question. “You said you were working on a new one, right?”

The effect is immediate, and soon, Marinette’s hands take flight as she begins to talk. “O-oh! It’s—it’s coming along really well!” she smiles, and the atmosphere warms as she motions to her legs. “I decided to go with the asymmetrical one over the mermaid or fishtail. They’re both nice, but keeping it tight at the knees isn’t practical for everyday use and it’d really restrict movement – those work a lot better for formal settings where you don’t have to move very much.”

The change is so drastic it almost takes Adrien but surprise, but Marinette has always been animated about her passions. He’s heard stories from Alya, and even Nino has seen her like this once or twice, but the way it her face comes lightens and it brings such _life_ to her eyes can’t compare.

“I considered leaving it to fall where it pleased, but that wouldn’t really give it the right amount of… swish. Pleating it would take a _lot_ of material – but I really think it would look nice. Then I considered layering it, but that might look odd with the fall I have planned but—”

“What about tiered?”

Marinette stops in the middle of her explanation and swivels to meet Adrien’s gaze. Her eyes become hazy as the idea plays over in her head and her hands dance around her hips, as if trying to imagine where the fabric might lay without it being there.

“If I gathered it just a little and gave it three tiers, then—Adrien! That’s it!” She beams and clasps her hands together, nodding vigorously. A plan is already forming and she almost rushes toward the school, eager to pull out her sketchbook, but her movements halt when she realises Adrien is smiling at her. Small and subtle, just the slightest upturn of lips, but he’s smiling and looking at her as if he’s seeing something new for the first time. “I-I, um, sorry… I got carried away and—”

“It’s alright,” Adrien insists quickly and steps forward, catching her elbow gently. “I think it’s cute--” Marinette blushes at the same moment Adrien chokes and quickly scrambles to correct himself. “I just meant it’s really great that you’re so passionate about all this and it’s… nice to see.” He wants to bury his face in his hands. It doesn’t sound and less bizarre than his first attempt and he’s sure he’s only making Marinette uncomfortable again; a disheartening thought after all the progress they’ve made.

“O-oh,” Marinette’s gaze falls to the ground, and Adrien believes he’s truly insulted her. He opens his mouth, ready to apologise, but her eyes return to his, partially closed and shy with a small smile. “Um…” she hesitates and brings her hands close to her chest as her fingers curl with a slow intake of breath. “…t-thank you. Alya usually teases me when I get too excited. No one’s ever really…”

“Called it what it was?” Adrien provides with a small grin and tries not to curse himself again. He’s not behind the mask right now and he shouldn’t be dropping lines like this, but each one seems to make Marinette brighten just a little more. It only makes it harder to resist the temptation. But her excitement is refreshing from the normal subdued or hesitant attitude he’s grown accustomed to and he happily encourages more.

“What colour will it be?”

“Well, I was thinking…” And she’s off again, talking about shades of pink and all the possible complementary hues, and even if Adrien can’t catch all of it at the speed she’s going, he finds himself loving every second. This new side of Marinette is still completely foreign to him, but he’s desperate to see _more_. Even if he doesn’t understand why.

They reach the school much too soon -- it’s across the street after all, and silently, they tell themselves they shouldn’t be disappointed -- but it doesn’t stop their conversation as they both unconsciously slow near the door. Off to the side, they make no efforts to move inside and earn more than a few curious glances from their fellow students. The attention they gather goes unnoticed and they continue to talk as if they’ve done something like this every day.

“Oooh. So _this_ is why you said you wouldn’t be out front.” The new voice makes them jump and turn to meet the all-too-happy face of Nino, who looks between the two of them with interest. “I knew I said I’d be late, dude, but I didn’t think you’d go and get yourself a date.” He laughs and wiggles his eyebrows, “Maybe I should be late more, huh?”

“Ni _-no!”_ Before Adrien can get a word in edgewise, Marinette has already spoken and the inflection on his best friend’s name makes him laugh.

Nino’s face twists in indignation as his arms cross. He’s used to _Alya_ teasing him like this, but not polite, quiet Marinette. “Not you too…”

“I need to remember that one,” Adrien grins and pats Nino’s shoulder when he pouts.

“Dude… I thought you had my back.”

“I do,” Adrien’s grin grows wider as he reaches for the door, “but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to tease you at every chance I get.” His laughter softens as he pulls open the door and steps back, raising an arm when Nino moves to go inside.

“Hey!”

“Ladies first,” Adrien hums and looks to Marinette. With a soft jerk of his head, he motions for her to take the lead, and with a soft squeak, she does. Her cheeks are rosy and her eyes wide as she stumbles inside, looking very much the flustered girl she used to be before they started talking. It worries him, but Adrien reminds himself that baby-steps are better than sprinting ahead. He still hasn’t figured out what it is about Marinette that draws him in, but they’ve made progress and he’s grateful for it.

Behind Adrien, Nino’s eyebrows are in danger of disappearing into his hairline as he watches the display before him with unveiled amusement. “I think,” he says slowly as Adrien looks back at him, “I’m gonna enjoy my freedom in the sun for just a little longer. Gotta make every minute count before I throw myself in jail for the day.”

“That’s not dramatic at all.”

“Hey, sometimes I just gotta throw in a little Nino-flare.”

“Is that what it’s called now?”

“Hey now,” Nino nods to the door as he takes a step back. “You should go make sure your _lady friend_ makes it in okay. Chloé’s been givin’ her the stink eye since I found you two.”

Almost immediately, Adrien glances to the bottom of the stairs where he sees Chloé’s glower melt into a overly sweet smile as she waves at him and starts for the stairs. It’s times like this when his instincts scream for him to run, but he knows it’ll only cause a scene and encourage her to do the same. “Save you a seat?” he jokes, and gives the door a tug to open it further.

“Yeah, sure, if Marinette hasn’t taken it over.”

“She wouldn’t--”

“Nope. _She_ wouldn’t. But you seem _awfully_ attached to her today.”

“We just walked to school!” Adrien frowns and tries to ignore the faint warmth in his face as he protests. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, he thinks, but the thought of sitting next to Marinette is an oddly nice one. It would give him another chance to speak with her, but the thoughts are shoved aside before they can finish and he tries to sound nonchalant. “She lives across the street and--”

“Incoming Chloé.”

“See you in class.” As much as he wants to _believe_ his childhood friend still has some good in her, he’s seen too many times that Marinette is a quick target for her, and he doesn’t want the morning’s good mood to evaporate.

“See ya, dude.” Nino nods and waits until the door is closed and turns around, making his way right back down the stairs. He lingers at the bottom and turns, leaning against the rail as he slips his hands in his pockets and draws a small bottle out of his pocket. His fingers twist the cap and pull it upward with a swift flick of his wrist, releasing a stream of air and bubbles.

As they rise into the air, he watches them silently before his head falls backward and his gaze drifts down. “Having fun spying?” he asks in a light, casual tone.

“I’m not spying! I’m investigating!”

“Uh-huh. I don’t think they’d agree with you, Alya.” Nino grins and watches Alya pop up with a frown, making no effort to jab the finger she shoves in his chest when he turns around.

“Well they won’t find out if no one _tells_ them.”

“Hey, hey…” Nino raises his hands in defence and takes a step back, “I’m not going to rat you out. But… why stick back here? I had a front-row seat.”

“It’s not everyday I go to pick up my friend to find she’s already left with a _boy._ ” Alya shrugs and moves around the cement wall to join him against the railing. “And _the_ boy at that. I didn’t want to throw off her grove.”

“I think Chloé is already on her way to try.”

“What? Oh, no way. Uh-uh. Come on, Nino.” Alya bristles and grabs his wrist, dragging him up the stairs. “We’re gonna stop her.”

“Wha--hold on! Hey! Why!?” Nino’s eyes grow wide and he stumbles forward, unable to fight against Alya’s iron grip. Chloé is far from reasonable, and the few times he’s had to deal with her one-on-one have never gone well. Even if he has Alya as back-up, it’s not a tempting idea. “I don’t _want_ to throw myself in her line of fire.”

“Because this is the first time I’ve seen Marinette talk to Adrien without almost combusting and I’m not aloud to let queen bee ruin it.”

* * *

Inside, Adrien stands behind his chair and props himself against Marinette’s desk as he leans forward and watches Marinette work on her tablet. Her physics homework is pulled up on the screen with several problems still blank, and one by one, Adrien guides her through them as she asks for help. Despite needing a few explained more than once, she picks up quickly and soon she slides it aside with a satisfied sigh.

“Finished…” she slumps back in her chair and looks at Adrien with a grateful smile. “Thank you. I should have studied harder, but--”

“It’s no big deal,” Adrien insists and waves his hand in the air. “I don’t mind helping at all, but…” He grins and stands on his toes to learn further forward. “I get to see it now… right?”

Marinette’s cheeks go red as she reaches for her backpack with a hesitant nod. It wasn’t so much a deal as a plea, but the moment she’d pulled out her homework, Adrien had offered to help with the request that he could see the design for the skirt she’d been talking about earlier. Embarrassed didn’t seem the right feeling, but as she pulls out her sketchbook, she can’t help but feel nervous. Even if Adrien is a model, his father is still more than a little famous, and surely he must know a lot about design. She’s very proud of her victory in the hat design competition, but part of her still wonders if it was simply dumb luck.

“W-well, this is the original design I had...” she begins and flips to a page toward the middle, pointing to a simple sketch of a skirt, “And then this was the pleated version. But, if I were to tier it like you said…” There is a pause as Marinette grabs her pencil and flips to a new page, immediately beginning a fresh sketch. “I’d want to make each one about this long, and--”

The classroom door opens with a loud bang and Marinette jumps in alarm. Her gaze snaps up and Adrien swears her face pales at the same moment her grip on the pencil tightens and her mouth thins. It’s a unique combination of unease and veiled distrust, and Adrien can think of only one that would ever earn such an immediate reaction.

“Adriekins!” The pitch almost makes Adrien wince and he swivels around just in time to catch Chloé’s waist as arms wrap around his shoulders and she barrels into him. “Oooh, I missed you this morning! Why didn’t you wait outside for me? I wanted _so_ much to say good morning and--oh.” Her tone shifts and it’s easy to detect the detest in her tone. “What are you doing with _her?”_

“Marinette was showing me something,” Adrien replies and gently pushes against Chloé’s waist as he takes a step to the side and onto the staircase. She moves along with him and crosses her arms, frowning. “But why? There’s nothing _that_ impressive in her little book. You should be spending time with your _friends_.”

“Marinette _is_ my friend, Chloé.” His tone is polite, but very matter-of-fact as he takes several steps backward and effectively blocks the entrance to Marinette’s desk. “We were hanging out this morning.”

Chloé’s eye twitches as her entire body grows tense. Her knuckles pale as her grip on her arms grows tight and she opens her mouth to protest, only to be cut off before she can begin.

“I picked her up this morning,” Adrien explains and meets Chloé’s gaze. “She’s going to have lunch with Nino and I.”

At this, Marinette looks up in alarm, shocked. “I… I am?”

Adrien nods. “Alya too.”

“We--really?” It’s hard not to smile, but Marinette does her best to try and hold a neutral face. They’ve eaten together a few times before, but it’s normally Nino who invites them or Alya who manages to slip them in. It’s never been _Adrien_ who brings her along.

“Really,” he nods again and places a hand on her desk, his gaze still locked on Chloé. “I’m treating her.” Marinette chokes at the same time Chloé gasps and a brief expression of fury passes over her face. “It’s to thank her for all the help she’s given me at the bakery.”

“At the-- _you_ went to _her_ bakery?” Chloé sounds aghast as she looks between the two of them, almost like she’s trying to make sense of what they are saying. “But…”

“I got there after school,” Adrien shrugs, and looks pleased that Chloé has yet to narrow in on Marinette. The steam is blowing out quickly from shock and he latches on to the chance to avoid a fight. “I’m going again today. You really should order something sometime. It’s all delicious.”

Marinette has never been one for letting others defend her, but in that brief moment, she almost wants to hug Adrien for how quickly he’s moved in. The morning had been wonderful, _very_ wonderful, and her elated mood has just been saved by his fast acting. She’ll have to deal with Chloé eventually, she knows, it’s impossible to avoid her when she’s upset, but for now, she gets to revel in _Adrien_ referring to her as a friend and (almost) asking her out for lunch.

As Chloé storms off, Adrien turns to her quickly with an apologetic look and rubs the back of his head. “Sorry,” he mutters, keeping his tone low, “I didn’t mean to pull you in like that. You two don’t have to eat with us. I just--”

“N-no!” Marinette shakes her head quickly and startles Adrien in turn. “I-I mean, I’d love to--Alya too! We’d love to have lunch with you two. If… if we’re really invited.”

“You--of course.” Adrien beams and Marinette swears the room gets a little brighter when he does. “I can’t wait.”

They don’t notice their friends standing by the door. Nino looks as if he’s just managed to dodge a bullet, and Alya is positively grinning.

“Well, Nino,” she nudges him and wiggles her eyebrows. “Looks like you don’t have to face the beast after all.”

_“Oh, thank god…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don't like being sick... It makes it harder to write, but I really wanted to get this chapter out because I didn't want to lose the inspiration when I had it. I'm having a lot of fun though, so that's got to be a good sign and my notes for the story keep getting more and more elaborate, which makes it a lot easier to write in the long run. So that's always good.
> 
> Thank you again to everyone leaving me kudos and comments -- the motivation they give me is really amazing and I'm so glad people are liking this story. I'm insanely excited to be moving through it at a good pace.


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just as note for everyone (and to remind myself as I post this) Adrien has been visiting the bakery and indulging himself with sweets for about three weeks now. This story is taking place sometime after or toward the end of season one, assuming a reveal doesn’t happen. But seeing as none of I know that, I get the liberties of assuming it hasn’t yet. And that brings us to where we are now. Yay fanfiction!

Marinette practically floats through the rest of her day. True to his word, Adrien had waited for her and Alya to come outside during the lunch break and quickly whisked them away with Nino to a nearby cafe. It had been, simply put,  _ wonderful _ . She’d sputtered in the beginning, of course, but once their food came the atmosphere had evened out and it was just like they were back in the bakery. Conversation flowed with ease and she’d even managed to learn a handful of new things -- small things -- but new things none-the-less about Adrien through his conversations with Nino. The day can’t possibly get any better, she thinks, and even Alya’s not-so-subtle teasing through the entire second period can’t pull Marinette down from her Adrien-induced high.

When the bell rings, Marinette stands and quietly begins to gather her things. Nino and Adrien are halfway to the door when she looks up, but much to her surprise, she finds them both waiting in the hall when she exits the class with Alya.

“Aw,” Alya nudges Marinette as she crosses her arms and smirks at the two boys. “Did you two wait all this time just for us?”

“Well, yeah,” Nino shrugs and for a moment, Alya loses her amused luster as he grins. “It wouldn’t be fair to my man Adrien if I was the only one leaving with a pretty girl on my arm. Am I right?”

Alya’s face blooms with colour, and this time, it’s Marinette with a cheeky grin as she gives Alya a small push forward and earns a yelp in response. “Wh-what the heck kind of line was  _ that?” _ she sputters and looks away with a loud huff. “Cheese to the max.”

“What?! Was not!” Nino protests and slips forward to throw an arm around Alya’s shoulders. “That was totally smooth. Tell her, Adrien.”

Adrien’s eyebrow arches as he looks between the two of them and puts on the pretense of looking thoughtful, “Well… I’d give the line about four,” he tries not to smile as Nino looks offended and continues quickly, “but the delivery was a solid eight, I think.” 

Beside him, Marinette giggles and the word  _ adorable _ floats through Adrien’s mind before he shoves the thought away quickly. There is no doubt that  _ adorable _ suits Marinette perfectly, but she’s his  _ classmate _ , and more importantly, his newest friend, and his thoughts shouldn’t be straying anywhere  _ near _ such things. She’s finally,  _ finally _ comfortable near him and the very last thing he wants is to scare her away again by being weird or, heaven help him, creepy.

“I’ll take it,” Nino’s voice cuts through his brief thoughts of panic and Adrien looks up in time to see Nino offer his arm with a dramatic flourish, only to turn pink when Alya loops hers around his and take it. It’s a colour Adrien has never seen his best friend turn before, and he does his best to fight back a laugh as he watches Nino get dragged down the hall as Alya calls for Marinette to follow.

“Shall we?” he looks to Marinette, who looks up with a smile. 

“We’d better,” Marinette hums and starts forward, “or Alya will drag him back and get me too. I don’t want to break up their fun.”

Marinette’s pace is slow until she feels Adrien at her side and easily falls into a normal speed. Her body still feels as if she’s floating, and part of her thinks she only reason she hasn’t completely broken down into a stuttering mess is from the elation of it all. It’s almost like an out of body experience; she can see, feel, and understand everything, but her body is calling all the shots rather than her mind. It’s a warm, wonderful state of being and if being with Adrien leaves her stuck in it for the rest of the day, then she’ll risk the fall when she goes to bed that night. It’s all too wonderful to lose. 

But unfortunately, her luck doesn’t always last.

When they reach the front doors, Marinette nearly collides into Adrien when he stops without warning. Standing in front of him is Nino with his features pulled into a small, tense grimace. Beside him, Alya looks faintly confused as she glances between him and Adrien, obviously waiting for an answer. Worried, Marinette steps to the side to peer around Nino and follows his gaze to a pristine, black car waiting on the curb where the Gorilla waits silently. She immediately understands why Nino looks distressed and her gaze shifts to Adrien, who looks as if he’s just swallowed something particularly foul. 

It’s not a look that that settles well with her stomach, and Marinette suddenly wishes she had Chat Noir’s talent at offering easy jokes at the flip of a paw -- even if they are terrible most of the time. Her attention shifts again, back to the car, and she feels herself frown with Nino. Today is Thursday; an Adrien day as she’s come to silently call it.  Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays. It’s been like that for three weeks and suddenly having the potential for that to change makes her stomach grow tight. She has no right or claim on Adrien’s time, she knows this, but the look on his face makes her believe he feels very much the same, and missing out on a chance to get to know him better is a big loss as far as she’s concerned.

“...I wasn’t told about plans today,” Adrien sighs and adjusts his backpack strap, earning a pat on the shoulder from Nino.

“I’ll text you,” Nino promises and offers Adrien a smile. “Gotta keep you entertained between shots, right?”

“Right…” Adrien nods and suddenly, his smile is back in place, but something is off about it. This time, it’s not just Nino who notices and Marinette steps forward. She wants to offer a gesture of comfort, to pat his arm or his shoulder or even a squeeze of the hand, but her courage falters as her grip on her sketchbook tightens and she hugs the object to her chest.

“I’ll bring you something tomorrow.” Words. It’s not much, but she gets them out without choking, and that’s better than nothing. “I might even be able to sneak something warm to eat before class.”

Much to her relief, it works, and Adrien’s eyes brighten, if only minimally. “Thanks, Marinette…” he murmurs softly and turns away. Another pat from Nino encourages him down the stairs, and the small group watches as he’s driven away. Behind her, Marinette doesn’t notice the silent conversation between Alya and Nino shooting rapid fire, and she nearly jumps when an arm falls around her shoulders.

“Come on, girl,” Alya smiles and pulls her forward, only to pause a moment later. Nino--”

“Don’t worry about me,” Nino winks and Marinette watches curiously as Alya takes it with a nod and knowing gleam in her eyes. “Call me later?”

“Always do.” He raises his hand in a wave and hurries down the stairs to sprint down the sidewalk.

“I know I’m no prince charming,” Alya’s tone is light and teasing, her eyes glittering with amusement, “but I’ll walk you home. I’d stick around, but I gotta help mom with my siblings today. Things are really busy at the hotel.” 

“That’s okay,” Marinette assures and forces a smile of her own and hopes it’s enough that Alya won’t notice. Disappointed though she is, it’s a chance to get an early start on her homework and she knows she should take it. Adrien or not, Akuma attacks are still a very real threat at any moment, and if she can avoid yet another late night, she’ll take the chance. “Mama and papa usually need my help lately too. There’s an inspection coming up soon and they want to be extra prepared.”

“Ah,” she nods and lets her arm fall back to her side as they cross the street. “Health inspector already?”

“Mmhm,” Marinette nods with a faint smile, “they always worry for nothing. Even the house is cleaner than normal. But I guess it’s nice to see once in awhile…”

“Mom gets like that too whenever it’s time for the kitchens to be looked at,” she says thoughtfully and laughs. “Maybe we should get them to trade de-stress tips sometime.” 

They reach the front door of Marinette’s apartment complex and Alya pauses to draw her phone from her pocket as it signals a notification. “Looks like I’ve gotta head out. I’ll call you tonight?”

“Only if you can get off the phone with  _ your _ ‘prince charming.’” Marinette giggles as Alya’s cheeks take on a light hue of pink.

“Girl, I swear… if we weren’t best friends--”

“You’d get me,” Marinette finishes and opens the door, “I’m sure you will anyway.”

“Just you wait. I always get my revenge.”

* * *

Homework, Marinette finds, is difficult to concentrate on when she’s worrying. She finds herself stopping between problems to worry and wonder where Adrien is and what’s going on. Rationally, she knows there’s nothing to be worried about. Adrien is used to his schedule and there’s absolutely no reason to believe he’s going to fall prey to an akuma over  _ not _ coming to the bakery for the day. It’s selfish to even consider, and Marinette gives herself a firm shake and looks back down at her tablet. If a small event has the ability to shake her so badly, then she really is hopeless. It’s fine, and with a steady breath, she refocuses her attention and sets back to work.

It works for just over half an hour before her phone starts going off rapid fire, announcing a slew of text messages. Marinette’s pauses in the middle of a sentence and looks at her clock, taking in how much time she’s actually spent working. Thirty six minutes isn’t exactly a long time, but long enough she feels she’s earned the right to look at her phone and picks the device up.

**Alya**

_ Hey gurl. Hows it goin? _

_ Nino called me. Says he got ahold of Adrien. _

_ Sounds like there’s a last minute photoshoot. _

_ Guess something happened with the male model, idk. _

Marinette looks at her phone in longing and sighs. She’s only been able to actually see a small handful of Adrien’s photoshoots, but with how sad he was after school, she would have loved to offer moral support. She still has his number, she thinks, but ever since the voice mail incident, she’s been hesitant to use it again. Before she can reply, her phone goes off again.

**Alya**

_ Sounds like he’s over at Promenade Plantée. _

_ Nino says he’s *prooobably* really hungry.  _

_ You know. What with no after school snack and all. _

_ So if some nice girl were to take him a delivery, I bet he’d realllly like it. _

It sounds like bait and a plot by Alya, but Marinette doesn’t care. She’s already halfway across her room as she sends out her reply of _“YOU’RE THE GREATEST!”_ and promptly sprints down the stairs. It’s too good to be true, but if there’s a chance she can help brighten Adrien’s day, she’ll grasp the chance tightly and go for it.

“I wonder what he’d like…” she mumbles and takes the stairs two at a time as she hurries down the complex staircases. “Not something messy… I don’t want to ruin his clothes. But filling would be good too…”

“What about croissants?” Marinette pauses and looks down, peering at the opening of her purse. “Those are nice and clean, even with crumbs. If you take him a few, he’s sure to be happy!”

“It’ll have to do,” Marinette nods and grabs the front door. “Better croissants than nothing.”

“Oh… Marinette?” Tikki’s eyes widen as she stares up at her chosen and offers a tiny, knowing smile Marinette can’t quite read. “And a one of the cheese breads too.”

“Cheese… bread?”

“The danishes!” Tikki says brightly and throws her arms up. “So he can have something really yummy after the shoot!”

It’s an oddly specific thing, Marinette thinks, but she concedes to Tikki’s point. The danish can always be saved and it would give Adrien something to carry him over until he gets home. Croissants only filled one for so longer, after all.

“Great idea,” she nods and hurries outside and rounds the corner to the bakery. “Thanks, Tikki.”

* * *

Promenade Plantée is beautiful, Ladybug decides the moment she descends a short distance away, hidden from view. Reds, oranges, and golden yellows mix together in the captivating hues of autumn. It’s lovely, and as her transformation fades away, she can’t help but think it’s the perfect location for a photoshoot. Her fingers wrap around the strap of her bag as she starts down the main path, almost in a trance. The photoshoot, according to Nino and Alya, is about two kilometers in and easy to spot, and sure enough, she finds them fairly quickly -- it’s rather difficult to miss the giant crowd.

The people are tightly packed together and navigating through them is far from easy. Most aren’t willing to move aside, and Marinette can’t blame them. It isn’t everyday that someone gets to watch Adrien Agreste at work without paying a hefty price for a ticket or having the right connections. 

Fortunately, being young and small has its advantages and after tight squeezes and a few uncomfortable shoves, she manages to make her way to the front and glances around. Two tents have been set up nearby for what Marinette can only assume is costume and make-up. Near the larger, three people pour over a camera and small tablet, as two more fuss over a young boy sitting in a chair just outside the smaller tent. 

“Adrien!” Marinette calls out without thinking and earns several looks of distaste from the people beside her. One scoffs, while the other simply rolls their eyes at what appears to be a pitiful fan attempt for attention. Her cheeks flush in embarrassment and she silently curses her loose lips when nervous. She briefly considers ducking back into the crowd and hiding, but her call has already attracted the attention of several of the employees and a security guard has approached the barrier. His gaze is more than a little annoyed and he’s likely had to deal with plenty of people like this before. People who, unlike Marinette, don’t go to school with Adrien, but if she were to guess by the look of his face, this man doesn’t know that at all.

“Ma’am,” the guard’s eyes narrow as he stops in front of her, arms crossed. “If you can’t restrain yourself, I’m going to have to ask you to--”

“W-wait!” The guard pauses and looks back with a small frown, and it’s obvious he hasn’t expected Adrien to join in. “She’s, uh, she’s a friend of mine! I invited her here.”

Sceptical, the guard looks back at Marinette and she feels unease building in her chest. He doesn’t believe Adrien at all and she knows she has to look suspicious with her brown paper bag. She’s going to be apprehended, she knows it. Apprehended and taken in for disturbance or trespassing of some form and, somehow, word will get back to Adrien’s father about all of this, and even if she  _ does _ manage to avoid jail time, her career will be over before it even starts. Not to mention, no one wants to be friends with a criminal, and she’ll lose Alya, Nino, Adrien, and  _ everyone. _ She’ll have to give up being Ladybug and--

“Please…” Adrien’s voice cuts through her torrent of thoughts and he looks up at the guard. “We had plans for before the shoot and I promised we could go after. I know she’s early, but… She won’t be any trouble. Really. Marinette is…” His expression falls and Marinette watches the guardian move closer to the barrier. She’d never meant to cause any trouble and she wonders if it would have been better if she’d just waited at the exit until it was all over.

“Adrien, I…” Marinette chokes on her her own words and hesitates. She wants to apologise, but before she can get the words out, the guard’s shoulder is caught in the grasp of a large, beefy hand that leads up to the face of someone far more intimidating than anyone else in the general area.

“...Gorilla?” Adrien murmurs and looks up in surprise as his driver gives the guard a firm stare and shakes his head while motioning for Marinette to come forward. Several people in the crowd cry out in protest, but a single glance from the behemoth that is  _ Gorilla _ is enough to silence them and Marinette scurries forward before she can cause a bigger scene. This isn’t what she had in mind when she’d set off to bring Adrien a snack and the attention is already starting to become overwhelming. 

Marinette’s distress does not go unnoticed and Adrien guides her to the far side of the changing tent where they can’t be seen and turns to her with worried look. “I’m sorry for all the trouble,” his tone is remorseful as his hand rubs the back of his head, ever the nervous habit. “Usually it’s some of the staff from the manor that runs security, but…” he trails off and makes a vague gesture with his hands. Nino is the only friend that’s ever shown up to his shoots like this before, and more often than not, that ends with a scene -- an  _ intentional _ scene -- and he can’t help but be grateful this ended so smoothly.

“It’s… it’s not a big deal,” Marinette smiles nervously and hugs the bag of croissants to her chest. “I just sort of showed up and… I mean, I really should have called ahead or tried to give you some warning with a text--”

“What?” Adrien blinks and looks perplexed and watches as Marinette tightens her grip on the bag in her arms, and risks damaging whatever is inside. “It’s fine--really. I’m glad you’re here.”

Marinette blushes heavily and nearly drops her load as she stares at Adrien’s subtle, but warm smile. “So… not that I’m trying to hurry you away, but… Why are you here?” His head tilts as he moves his focus back to Marinette’s face. “Is everything okay?” 

“O-oh, yes! It’s fine! I just--Nino told Alya were you were and she told me and--” She’s rambling and cuts herself off as she thrusts the bag forward, nearly hitting Adrien’s chest in the process. “I… thought you might be hungry? Since… since you didn’t get to come to the bakery, I mean. I know it’s not very glamourous, just croissants and a cheese danish, but it’s better to eat something than nothing, and--”

“Really?” Adrien’s smile brightens and it makes her heart flutter in response and sends small waves of warmth through her body. She’ll never get used to this, she thinks, and only jerks out of her daze when Adrien takes the bag she’s holding out. “You brought so many…” he trails off and peers around the tent to watch the photoshoot staff. They all appear to still be busy and he takes advantage of it by sitting down on the ground cross-legged and waves Marinette down to join him. “Why don’t we share them?”

“S-share?” Marinette squeaks and kneels down, unable to resist the invitation. It isn’t the first time they’ve eaten together by a longshot, but it’s no less thrilling than the first. “I--are you sure I’m not disturbing anything?”

“They’ll be busy for a while longer.” Adrien reaches into the bag eagerly and offers the first croissant to Marinette before quickly grabbing a second for himself. “We have time to eat and relax.” He stops just short of a bite and looks back at Marinette quietly. “...if you’re staying?”

“O-of course!” Marinette smiles and feels her face heat up yet again. “I came to see you after all. I mean, I came to feed you. I mean--” she groans and tries to hide behind her croissant. “...I can stay.”

With a quiet laugh, Adrien bites into his croissant and gives Marinette’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. Her nervous nature makes him worry that he’s done something wrong, but her unease always seems to fade away with time and he hopes the pattern will continue. “That’s great,” he grins and takes another bite of croissant, “it’s not as comfortable as your parents bakery, but…”

“N-no, this is fine.” Marinette assures and shifts, making a show of making herself more comfortable. “Really.”

The conversation levels off and they eat in silence for several minutes. Two croissants into his snacking, Adrien reaches for the bag, only to let his hand fall back into his lap and earn a concerned look from Marinette. Her lips part, ready to ask what’s wrong, but the words stall as a voice hisses in the back of her head that she’s prying. The grip she has on her croissant tightens and send a pile of crumbs into her lap which she quickly brushes away, and the sudden movement makes Adrien jump.

“O-oh!” Marinette gulps and sets her snack aside, turning to face Adrien properly. “I’m sorry, I--” she inhales sharply and gives her head a firm shake. “...Are you alright?”

The question takes him by surprise. It’s not often that someone takes notice of the cracks in his mask -- or that he lets them slip out -- but it seems to be a frequent happening around Marinette as of late, and he can’t find reason to be upset about it. For as often as it happens, she seems exceptionally talented at helping him feel better just by  _ being _ there. 

“I’m, ah…” he trails off and smiles faintly, motioning to the brown bag. “...thank you for these.” His eyes soften and make butterflies swarm Marinette’s stomach. “I wasn’t… really looking forward to having to go home after this, but… I’m glad I got to see you.”

Marinette’s face explodes with colour and puts on an incredible show of impersonating a tomato as she tries to choke out a response. Words are failing her horribly and by the time she finally pieces together a semblance of a response, an explosion of angry curses in Italian send them both to their feet and around the corner.

Adrien’s photographer -- a man Marinette really only knows for an unhealthy love of spaghetti -- looks furious. His staff has positioned themselves several feet away from him and watch the scene unfold with thinly veiled concern. He’s pacing curiously, swinging his arm around in dramatic gestures as he carries a loud conversation with an unknown party on his phone and soon ends it with a loud hiss. No one dares move closer or speak, and they all release a collective sigh of relief when it’s Adrien who dares to step forward first and ask what is wrong.

“Your partner!” he growls and stomps once, “The lovely Sylvana will not be making it! Her  _ baggage _ is apparently  _ lost _ and she is refusing to leave the airport until it is found!” He scowls and spits, making one of the nearby makeup artists jump back. “Ridiculous! Absolutely horrid. She does not need  _ bags _ to take pictures. I am providing her outfits!” He spits again and crosses his arms, his mood not levelling in the slightest. “How can we possibly continue without a lovely lady companion to…”

There is a pregnant pause as he finally seems to notice Marinette hovering behind Adrien. His eyes narrow and he raises his hand, framing the two of them between squared fingers. He’s mutters to himself, too fast and slow low to be understood before he lets out a loud cry and claps his hands, making almost all of them jump. 

“Perfetto!” he grins and hurries forward, motioning to Marinette. “Adrien! Who is this friend of yours? Why is she here?”

“Marinette?” Adrien opens his mouth and tries to think of a response. He doesn’t want someone else to try and make her  _ leave _ , but he doesn’t want to get in trouble anymore than he wants to get her in trouble. “She’s my friend,” he explains quickly and hopes that will help avoid any negative emotions, “and she came to bring me a snack and… hang out?”

“Davvero?” The photographer beams and claps his hands again. “Che fortuna!” He turns on his heel and motions to two ladies standing nearby and begins snapping his fingers. “You two! See that this girl is changed into Sylvana’s outfit! Quickly! There has been a change of plans!”

“Wh-what?” Marinette squeaks and tries to step back, only to have her arm caught by the enthusiastic spaghetti man. “W-wait, I’m not--I’m just…!”

“You are the girl who was in the park, yes?”

“I--what? I--you remember--wait, but it as Manon who--”

“No! No! A child will not do this time. We need you! You are perfect. Small and cute. You will look lovely on Adrien’s arm.”

“Wh-what?” Marinette’s voice raises in pitch with each time she speaks, despite barely being able to get a word in edgewise. “But I’m--” she looks at Adrien, half-hoping he might protest. “I’m…”

Adrien looks between the two parties with wide-eyes, just as taken aback as Marinette. Whatever has happened, it takes him a moment longer to process before a smile immediately spreads across his face. 

“You should do it, Marinette,” he encourages and moves forward to place a hand on the small of her back. “It’ll be fun--and it gives me a chance to pay you back for all the times I’ve come to the bakery.” He looks absolutely thrilled, and it makes it all the more difficult for Marinette to say no. That smile makes her knees feel  _ weak. _ “I can show you what my job is like this time.”

“I-I…” It’s a dream, she thinks. It must be a dream. A photoshoot with Adrien. A photoshoot Adrien is  _ encouraging _ her to partake in. “B-but I’m… I don’t have any make-up…?”

“Non è importante!” The photographer interrupts again and motions to the make-up team. “We will take care of that. Now! Take this girl--Marinette--and get her ready. Adrien! To your own tent, quickly! Time to change!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~I don’t know Italian at all. But I tried.~~
> 
>  
> 
> And there you have it. An extra long (and extra early) chapter as my Valentine's Gift to all of you. ...assuming you liked it, I mean.
> 
> Is it sad I actually knew Adrien’s schedule well enough from the Copy Chat episode to remember what days he had Chinese, Basketball, and Fencing? Yes? Yes. It really is. Now I know how Mari feels. I actually went back and checked it with a friend. But that aside, I figured photoshoots weren’t consistent for the most part but his lessons/sports were. So I took the liberty of stealing those days for this fic. Whoops?
> 
> Also, I know we don’t know if Alya and Nino are _actually_ a thing yet, but seeing as this story takes place *after* Anti-Bug at the very least, I get to use my right as a fiction author to say: “Yup, they sure are.” Not that it has major influence on the plot, but. They cute. Let me indulge myself a little while the cuties are still bonding. 
> 
> Thank you once again for all the comments and support.


	6. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been updating pretty quickly as of late, but the next chapter might take a little while as I plan if I want to write the dinner or not and try to make sure I properly plot out what I want to happen next. It's almost reaching a critical point in the storyline I have planned, so it needs to come out well~ There's also MariChat Week coming up so I want to make sure I work on that too because I am stupid excited for it. ~~MariChat is my favourite and just... slkdfj.~~
> 
> Either way, I really hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Marinette barely has a moment to speak before the two women step forward and -- quite literally -- sweep her off her feet. She’s too shocked to struggle, and as quick as a blink they pull her into the nearest tent and usher her behind a standing screen. One woman disappears from sight while the other tugs at her purse and clothes, and Marinette yelps in protest. She’s not fond of the idea of losing either, but she can feel Tikki as she rolls around inside the bag and the thought of _losing_ her kwami in the frantic rush of whatever _this_ is is terrifying. Alas, poor, simple Marinette’s strength is not enough to combat that of a makeup artist in the zone, and soon she stands in naught but her undergarments and no longer has the option of trying to run away.

In any other time, in any other place, Marinette imagines she might have been excited. This is the chance of the lifetime. Her, Marinette, a normal girl in every sense of the world, as far as she’s concerned, given the chance to not only to wear expensive, lovely clothes, but partake in a photoshoot with _the_ Adrien Agreste. And without even winning a contest! But the onslaught of pokes and pulls and shoves is almost too much for her to handle, and somewhere along the line her mind simply times out and waits for it all to end. If she’s going to die, at least her last coherent thoughts will have been of Adrien, and really, that doesn’t seem a _bad_ way to go.

Her trauma, however, is short-lived, and before she has time to come to terms with her not-so-bitter end, Marinette is pushed in front of a mirror to examine herself. What she sees is not at all what she expects. _Cute_ doesn’t seem the right word at all, but her mind is in awe and not pulling together coherent words.

A black beret sits snugly atop her hair she doesn’t remember being let down. Her bangs fall as always, side-swept across her forehead with the longer strands framing her face, and the rest has been pulled back in a half-ponytail with loose waves that reach her shoulders. A long cream sweater reaches down to her knees just below a ruby red cape coat with black buttons. Black leggings run along the length of her legs and lead down to a pair of laced brown ankle boots with a small heel.

Marinette almost laughs at the irony of the colours, but the clothes are warm, very warm, and soft. They protect her from the cool autumn breeze that wafts through the tent and the panic in her mind ebbs just slightly. She leans closer to the mirror to peer at her face and take in the simple, but immaculate make-up. There’s no flaws to be found and it doesn’t surprise her; employees of Gabriel Agreste don’t make mistakes. It’s almost impossible to believe she’s looking at herself -- even as a designer, she’s never made herself anything quite this nice -- but she doesn’t have long to admire it all before she’s pulled briskly outside.

The leaf covered ground doesn’t offer the best by means of traction as she’s hurried forward. Marinette’s feet slip and slide as she’s given no time to focus or breathe before she’s given a final shove and she all but plows into a firm chest. Arms wrap around her waist as a low chuckle rumbles in her ear and her gaze drifts up to meet the very close and very amused face of Adrien Agreste. She yelps and jerks backward, nearly sending herself to the ground as her arms pinwheel in an effort to regain her balance. The calm she felt in the tent is immediately destroyed and an embarrassed flush leaves her cheeks matching the coat hanging off her shoulders.

“S-sorry,” Marinette sputters and looks down at her feet. “I-I didn’t mean to--the ground is just--I, uhm…” She swallows and resists the urge to pull the ends of her coat up and hide. Maybe, if she’s lucky, she really will slip and just pass out when she hits the ground. At least she won’t have to live through the embarrassment until she’s at home and away from the eyes of the public. “...sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Her apologies have only fueled Adrien’s amusement, but he bites the chuckle back. If her past actions are anything to go by, Marinette is likely already on edge and he doesn’t want to make it worse. She’s far from a flight risk, she’s too kind for that, but he doesn’t have the heart to make her stay if she’s uncomfortable, and he knows the beginners feeling all too well. Even if it’s been a long time.

“You look nice,” he tries as a distraction and smiles gently. “Really nice, Marinette.” The colours and clothes suit her small figure extremely well, and if he’s honest with himself ‘nice’ isn’t nearly strong enough. He’s never seen her with her hair down, but if she ever decides to do so again, it won’t be soon enough. The rosy colour of her cheeks only adds to the charm, and suddenly, he’s so very, very glad Sylvana -- whoever she may be -- is a diva. It might be wrong -- he tells himself it’s wrong, very wrong, how could he look at another that isn’t his beloved Ladybug like this? -- but it would be an insult to let her continue through the day and not tell her the truth.

Adrien’s compliments tear Marinette out of her daze and she whispers out a soft, nervous gratitude. Her nerves are still shot, but she finally allows herself to look up, and she’s so very grateful she has. A soft latte turtleneck pokes out from under a black peacoat that hugs Adrien’s figure just right and brings attention to the slight curve of his waist. The persimmon orange of his scarf stands out against the dark fabric, but it only makes his eyes look all the more vibrant -- something Marinette absolutely adores. Off-white, boot-cut jeans accent every muscles in his legs and tuck into the boots he wears that match her own. Snug black gloves cover his hands and almost blend with the neat cuffs of his sleeves, and she can’t help but be grateful she won’t lose her mind to the warmth of his fingers against hers.

“Y-you…” Marinette swallows and curses her nerves. It’s so _easy_ to say whatever she wants as Ladybug, but the mask is part of who she is. It shouldn’t be this hard to speak without. “You, um…” Closing her eyes, Marinette swallows a second time and tries to steel her nerves. It’s a compliment, just a compliment, and if she can’t handle that, she won’t even make it through the first photo. “You look good too, _handsome boy_ ~”

It’s out before she can stop herself and the effect is immediate. Adrien’s cheeks bloom with colour as he inhales sharply and stares at Marinette in open surprise. His lips part and move silently as he tries to comprehend that Marinette -- shy, gentle, and quiet _Marinette_ \-- has just called him handsome with a smirk that sends an eerily familiar flood of warmth through his core.

“I--” Adrien’s words are cut off before he can get them out. The photographer rushes forward and speaks in a rush of Italian too quick for them to understand and pushes them down the pathway. The photoshoot has already been stalled and it doesn’t look like he’s willing to wait any longer.

Several yards away, a crêpe cart has been set up while they were changing.  Marinette eyes it in quiet curiosity as the photographer -- “Pietro,” Adrien murmurs to her -- guides them to a bench and orders them to sit down.

“Now!” Pietro claps his hands loudly and motions to the two of them with a wide grin. “You are on a date, yes? Still new, still young love. You are wanting spaghetti--” At this, Adrien gives Pietro a pained expressions and earns a roll of the eyes in response. “ _Uffa!_ You have no sense of what is good, Adrien! Fine, fine. No spaghetti. You are hesitant, you are nervous. You are not knowing what to expect from all this -- Go!”

Nervous. Nervous Marinette could do -- it felt like that was all she could do right now. Her gaze shifts nervously to Adrien before settling to her lap. Her hands wrung together, fingers twisting and untwisting as she looks back up at Adrien once more and tries to finds the words to speak. A soft _click_ calls out before she can and Pietro nods his approval.

“Che bello! Yes, yes, this is good. Adrien, on your feet!”

With an apologetic smile, Adrien stands and turns to Marinette, offering his hand. “Sorry,” he murmurs in a low voice. “He can be a little… overwhelming sometimes, but he means well, really.” Marinette shakes her head and takes the offered hand.

“It’s alright, I--”

“Don’t move!”

Marinette freezes, her eyes comically wide as she stares at Adrien and tries not to breathe. She barely registers the click of the camera or the low tut that follows. Pietro’s eyebrows are drawn tightly together as he stares at the two of them with a tight frown. “No, nonono, this will not do. The girl, she is _too_ stiff. You are on first date! You are nervous! You are not a _statue.”_

With a small flinch, Marinette recoils into herself and stares at the ground. She’s not good at this; she’s not _trained_ for this, and she’s _far_ from good enough to be doing this with _Adrien_ of all people. Her hand starts to fall back to her lap, ready to insist that she is _not_ the girl for the job -- where had all that confidence she’d just had gone? -- but her hand is intercepted halfway and Marinette feels herself pulled to her feet.

“What’s the next shot?” Adrien asks, not letting go of Marinette, “Give us a minute and I’ll make it work.”

Pietro looks at Adrien and looks to his watch. If he wants to protest, it is lost to his stronger urge to get his job done and he motions to the crêpe cart not far away. “You are going to take your date,” he pauses and motions to Marinette, “to the cart. A gentleman’s treat, of course. Look at the menu -- not too close, but you are getting more comfortable with one another, sì?”

Adrien nods and pulls Marinette closer to the cart, ignoring Pietro’s scurried footsteps and movements behind them. “Marinette,” he calls gently to gain her attention, “I’m sorry he’s rushing. He means well, really.”

“I’m sorry.” She apologises before she can stop herself and frowns. “I-I’m not… I’m not used to this and I’m not--”

“Everyone has to start somewhere,” Adrien cuts her off and gives her hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. His fingers ghost along the length of her arm and settle at the back of her shoulder, curling slightly against her coat. “But don’t worry about that; it doesn’t matter. Try to focus on me, okay?”

That, fortunately, is easy. Marinette has spent more than her fair share of time completely enamoured with and focused on Adrien. Now that he’s asking for it, however, she can’t help but feel embarrassed.

“I…”

“Really. Don’t worry about the crowd or Pietro… Just look at me. I’ll get you through this no problem.”

Something in Marinette’s jacket shifts and she nearly jumps. Her unease skyrockets until she feels the familiar press of a small hand against her ribs. A soft buzz reaches her ears and she releases the breath she doesn’t realise she’s been holding. “I…” The hand touches her side again and she nods once. “Right.” She isn’t sure if it’s confidence, the assurance of knowing Tikki has somehow snuck into her clothes, or simply the fact that Adrien is looking at her in ways she never dreamed possible, but her shoulders finally relax and a serene smile settles on her face.

“Okay.” Marinette nods again and Adrien’s eyes brighten. “Thank you…”

“It’s no problem.” Adrien gives her shoulder a gentle push and guides her several steps forward. “Now, go ahead and look at the menu. If I know Pietro right, he’s going to have us actually carrying some for the next shot. We might as well get something we like, right?” He laughs quietly and motions to the menu. “You can’t look any more natural than if you’re actually doing what he wants.”

The light ease in Adrien’s voice helps Marinette find her focus once more. No matter who he is, in the end, Adrien is her friend -- a friend trying to help her -- and she can hold herself together long enough to make it easier. She is Ladybug, after all. Somewhere inside her, deep down, that confidence is there. She just needs to channel it again.

“Perfetto!” They both jump apart and Pietro beams. “Perfetto! Much better! Now, go order! We need you with delicious food for the next shot.”

Marinette laughs quietly and moves to step forward, but Adrien holds his arm out and bends himself forward in a slight bow. “I’ll take your order,” his smile widens to a slight grin, a playful gleam in his eyes. “You’re helping me out, after all.” He pauses, then brings a finger to his nose and taps it. “You look like a strawberry-nutella girl to me.”

A blush makes its way to Marinette cheeks, but a light tap to her side is all it takes to spur her words forward. “You guessed right,” she nods, brushing loose strands of hair behind her ear. “Nice and sweet, just like you.” She wants to scream the moment she says it, but her boldness gains another blush from Adrien and she feels a small rush of warmth wash over her as he hurries over to get their treats.

“I’m flirting,” she mumbles, barely a whisper to herself. “I’m _flirting_ with _Adrien_. At his photoshoot.”

“You’re doing well, Marinette!” a tiny voice squeaks in response and Marinette feels several more taps to her side. “You’re even talking to him in full sentences! And you’re not making the weird noises this time!”

 _“Tikki!”_ Marinette hisses and brings a hand to her chest. “Don’t be--”

“Strawberry-nutella for the lady in red,” Adrien’s voice cuts of her frantic whispers as he offers a warm, paper-wrapped crêpe, “and banana creme for--”

“--the dashing gentleman in black?” Adrien chokes and Marinette busies herself with a quick bite of crêpe to try and hide the red shooting across her face. Perhaps she’s channeling just a little _too_ much Ladybug. Getting Adrien to blush is more than a little satisfying, but she fears she’s treading too close to creepy.

“...dashing?” Adrien repeats in a soft tone and looks to Marinette in surprise. “You think I’m--”

“No! No! Closer together!” Pietro huffs and moves behind Marinette, giving her a small nudge. “You are _falling_ in love! Not breaking up! Adrien, an arm, a hand, _something,_ please! Amore! Let me see _amore!_ You understand, sí?”

This time, they both blush furiously. Adrien tries to offer a smile he hopes is reassuring as Marinette attempts to hide in her crêpe and ends up with a glob of strawberry creme on her nose. A moment of silence passes between them as Marinette jerks her hand back in shock and goes cross-eyed in an attempt to see the offending gob. With a frown she balances her treat in one hand and starts to raise the other, but Adrien has already beat her to it. His finger -- now glove-free -- brushes over her nose.Shocked, Marinette inhales sharply and goes very still, a dazed look on her face as she stares at Adrien in quiet awe. His touch is so gentle, so careful and slow, she almost believes she imagines it, but the soft pink on Adrien’s finger confirms it.

Pink blooms across Marinette’s nose and cheeks from the point of contact, and both of them almost miss the telltale _click_ as Pietro lets out another cry of delight. “Ah! That! That is what I am looking for! Wonderful!”

Oblivious to the startled state of the two teens, Pietro waves and assistant over to gather their unfinished food and begins to usher them down the road. “Arm-in-arm, _per favore_. Do not turn around. I will go around you. This will be our last shot! Show me all of your love! Fall for one another!”

On reflex, Adrien offers Marinette his arm with a nervous smile. Her face is still heavily flushed and dazed, still lost in the brief contact from before. He shifts, ready to call her name, but her arms slip around his, slow and uncertain, and allow him to use the leverage to tug her flush against his side. Her surprised yelp is lost as her nose collides with his bicep and she looks up, lips slightly parted. The sudden movement has caused her beret to shift, and without being prompted Adrien is already lifting his hand to push it back. The gesture, Marinette thinks, is sweet, and her shock melts into a gentle smile. “...thank you.”

“Ah! Yes! That was quite good! Well done!” The moment is gone as soon as it starts and they pull apart in confusion. Whatever Pietro had been looking for in their pose, he’d clearly found it. He’s already waving an assistant over with a wide smile and gesturing to his camera, leaving them both behind. Several minutes pass before either dare move, and Adrien gently leads Marinette over to the edge of the path with a soft sigh.

“I’m sorry you got dragged into this,” he motions vaguely to Pietro. “I know it must have been overwhelming and just--”

“N-no!” Marinette cries louder than she means to and makes Adrien jump. She turns on her heel, intending to continue her protest and assure Adrien that it is just _fine_ , but she has forgotten the leaves on the ground and her spin keeps going as her weight pulls her down. Alarmed, Adrien tries to use the arm still in his grasp to catch her, but his own movement sends him pitching forward. They both land in the high pile of leaves that line the path where they’ve been cleared out of the way for the photoshoot.

Orange, red, and yellow fly into the air and cascade around them as Marinette screws her eyes shut and waits for Adrien’s weight to crush her… But it doesn’t come.

Tentatively, she opens her eyes and feels her heart leap into her throat. Adrien, fortunately -- or maybe unfortunately -- has managed to catch himself on his forearms and hovers centimeters above Marinette's face. His bangs brush her forehead as his stunned expression mirrors her own. Neither of them move, breaths held as blue meets green and all time around them outside the falling leaves seems to stop. Red obscures Marinette’s vision as a single leaf falls over her eyes, but it moves soon after, pinched between two black-gloved fingers that send it off to the side with a soft flick to join its fellows.

 _Adrien_ … It’s what she wants to say, what she _almost_ says, but the name is stuck in Marinette’s throat as his hand descends, and trails along her face to settle at the curve of her cheekbones. He’s staring at her, _god_ is he staring at her with a look she can’t quite understand, but it lights fire in her stomach and she knows she must be giving him the same because he hasn’t moved away. She almost fears he can hear her pulse as it roars in her ears and races through her.

“Marinette…” Adrien whispers her name, soft and thick with emotion as she watches his throat bob with a swallow. His eyes close part-way, half-lidded and full of things she’s seen dancing in the eyes of Nino and Alya whenever the two glance at each other in secret. The warmth in her abdomen explodes and rushes through her at almost dizzying speeds as the sweet aroma of fruit on their breath mixes together. She feels her own eyes start to close as Adrien begins to lean down and his hand drifts from her cheek to cradle the back of her head--

_Click._

“Perfetto!” They leap apart as Pietro practically _glows_ behind his camera and nods in approval. There was never supposed to be a picture of this, never supposed to be a fall, but they both hit the ground quick and hard and they scramble to brush leaves off their clothes as their minds reel at how metaphorical that might be. “Adrien! My lovely boy! You did not tell me you were so talented with the improvising! Che bello! _That_ was was falling in love! That was… ah! I do not have the words! Perfetto…! Just… perfetto! Ah! But we must be cleaning up. Shoo, shoo. Go and change you two. Relax. A job well done.”

Pietro is already halfway back to the tents by the time they’re able to move again, but neither of them seem willing to look at one another. They’re not naive enough to _not_ know what almost happened, but far too nervous to address it.

“Y-you…” Adrien coughs and clears his throat, giving his head a firm shake. “You… did really well today, Marinette.” He looks up and grins, feeling something playful beginning to build in his chest; almost like he’s behind the mask. “You’re almost as much of a natural as me.”

His words snap Marinette out of her daze and she rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. “Oh, stop it kit--kind.” The air almost rushes out of her lungs at the slip. He’d just sounded so much like--but she won’t let her thoughts go there. She doesn’t want to let them. Not now. She can’t think of _him_ when she’s with _Adrien_. “You’re… too kind. I really… I was too stiff.”

“You loosened up.”

“Thanks to you…”

“Of course,” Adrien winks and moves closer as he nods to the tents. “You helped me today; I wouldn’t leave you to figure it out alone.”

Almost immediately, Marinette’s gaze is back to the ground and trying to fight back the heavy flush of her cheeks. “I-I, um… we should change--I don’t want to get in trouble for wearing them too long.” Her hands wring together nervously as she stops outside the tent she changed in and peers at Adrien. His approval means much more than she can express, and the fact that he’s _still_ looking at her feels like a dream.

“U-um, I’ll just…” she motions to the tent, uncertain of what else to say.

“Right.” Adrien nods quickly and turns away, pausing. “Marinette?”

“Hm?”

“I just… wanted to thank you,” he glances over his shoulder with a gentle smile. “For all you’ve done today and I thought maybe…”

“Maybe…?” Marinette turns to better meet Adrien’s gaze and waits as her pulse begins to flutter once again.

“I thought maybe… we could get dinner. Together, I mean. Once we change?” Adrien’s gaze shifts, moving back to the road in front of him. “As a thank you.”

“O-oh, I…” Something catches in Marinette’s throat and she almost pinches herself. It’s a dream, it _must_ be a dream, but whatever it may or may not be, she doesn’t want it to stop and she doesn’t want to wake up. Not yet. “I’d… I’d like that.”

“Really?” Adrien brightens and nods. “Great! I’ll meet you out here soon then!”

As she changes, Marinette barely registers her own movements. Each piece of clothing is placed carefully on their waiting hangers and left where she found them. Somewhere in the middle of pulling her own clothes on, Tikki settles on her shoulder and squeaks in soft delight.

“You did it, Marinette!” she smiles and pats Marinette’s cheek with a gentle smile. “You have a date with Adrien!”

“A d-date?” Marinette shakes her head rapidly and tries to protest. “N-no. Tikki, it’s just... it’s just dinner. Really. He’s just…” She shakes her head again and hugs her jacket to her chest. “It’s just dinner…”

“But Marinette…” Tikki takes flight and hovers in front of Marinette’s face, eyes warm. “Adrien is noticing _you_ , Marinette! He couldn’t stop looking at you.”

“It… it was just the clothes. And the make-up. He didn’t…”

“He did.” Tikki nods and giggles. “Now hurry up! You don’t want to keep him waiting!”

* * *

“Ugh… I thought I was going to lose my cheese.”

“Shut up…” Adrien sighs and shrugs out of his clothes with ease. Changing is second nature to him and takes almost no time; after all, when one makes part of their career out of it, they get good. “Don’t be like that.”

“You were making _the eyes at her. It was gross.”_

“I wasn’t making anything.”

 _"The eyes,_ ” Plagg repeats and sits on the chair intended for Adrien with a small piece of cheese between his paws. “Does this mean you’re finally giving up on Ladybug?”

“What? No!” Adrien spins around and frowns at the chair. “It’s just _dinner_ , Plagg. Knock it off.”

“Dinner and mushy-eyes. If I have to deal with more of that, I might really lose my appetite. Bleh… Cheese is so much simpler than girls. You can have all the types you want without dealing with the drama.”

“I doubt that,” Adrien mutters, but can’t get the first part of Plagg’s statement out of his head. He hadn’t really thought about _how_ he was looking at Marinette today. All he’d known was that he couldn’t _stop._ She’d look pretty -- more than pretty, _beautiful_ \-- and the way she had practically _glowed_ once she relaxed. She’d even _joked_ with him, gotten _sassy_ , and Adrien couldn’t lie to himself and claim he hadn’t enjoyed it. Her eyes had sparkled when she laugh and her hands, her _hands_ were so warm, even through his clothes. Just having her nearby had made him feel so much more relaxed and calmer during the shoot, like all his stress had simply melted away. It had been so fun and easy and…

“...crap.”

“Cheese.” Plagg shrugs in response, “You really should just choose cheese. That’s what I did and I’m happier for it.”

Adrien is too busy hiding his crimson cheeks in his jacket to respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plagg, don’t lie. You miss Tikki like burning and cheese is your best distraction.  
> Ahhh… this chapter is also kinda long. The end was a little rushed, and I’m still deciding if I want to write out their dinner ‘date’ or move the plot forward like I did with the lunch bit in the last chapter. ~~I actually really want to write it, I just don't want to write it half-ass, so I want to plan something really nice.~~ But I really did love writing the photoshoot scene, that was a lot of fun. ~~Even if AO3 likes putting extra spaces in random spots.~~
> 
> But that’s not what’s important for here. What’s important is that Adrieeeen has a cruuuusssssh~  
> Now you all must tease him mercilessly.


	7. Chapter Six

When Marinette finally slips outside, Adrien is already waiting a short distance from the tent. His hands are in his pockets and his gaze locked with the ground as he mutters to himself in a hushed tone too low for Marinette to hear. He’s done this before, she knows, and while she is far from innocent regarding such a habit -- Tikki is always in her purse, after all -- Adrien has never struck her as the type to talk to himself. It worries her, and she wonders if she should step back inside and give him a moment, but he notices her presence before she can double-back and his expression breaks into a smile.

“Hey, Marinette,” his eyes soften as he steps forward and motions behind him with his head. “Are you ready to go? The Gorilla is pulling up the car; he agreed to give us a ride.”

The ease in which Adrien’s focus shifts helps eliminate Marinette’s worries and she returns his smile with ease. Before she can speak, movement near the region of Adrien’s chest catches her attention and she swears she sees something  _ move _ under the fabric of his jacket, but the moment she blinks, it stops and she chalks it up to the wind. It’s a situation she’s been caught in herself too many times before, and the similarities are uncanny, but she pushes the brief thoughts away. Adrien is far too different than her rooftop partner, and she would notice another presence if it was there -- at least, she likes to think so.

Behind Adrien, Marinette can see the familiar vehicle pull up and stop near the curb. It earns the attention of several eager fans from the crowd and she watches them start to gravitate closer. Her lips purse into a worried frown as she glances at Adrien, then back to the car, and brings her hands together in front of her. “Um, a-are you sure I’m not causing you any trouble?” she asks softly and nods to the small group. “I don’t want to--”

“It’s alright,” Adrien assures before she can finish and places a hand at the small of her back to urge her forward. “They never try anything when Gorilla is there. Just keep close.” The precaution makes Marinette concerned, but the feeling washes away almost immediately with the flash of a gentle smile and warm green eyes. For as often as he’s sent her heart reeling, it’s difficult not to trust him when he’s like this.

Guided by his hand, Marinette moves toward the car with surprising ease. The weakness in her knees and jelly legs are strengthened by having him near, and she’s easily able to hold a strong face against the glares and disapproving looks of the rabid fans nearby. It’s no worse than facing down Chloe, she assures herself, and can only be grateful none of them feel confrontational. She’s still coming down from her dazed high of whatever it was that had happened in the leaves, and she’s doubts she’d be able to focus quickly enough to form much of a defence.

“Thank you.” Marinette shakes her head and looks up when she hears Adrien’s voice. The car door is being held open by the Gorilla, who is staring at her quietly as Adrien waits to the side. When she doesn’t move, he motions with his hand and offers another smile he hopes is comforting. The motions pulls Marinette out of her stupor and she coughs in embarrassment as she crawls inside with only a little fumbling. 

Adrien follows her inside soon after and the door is shut behind them as they settle in. Marinette’s cheeks have taken on a healthy pink hue, and she silently curses the loss of her earlier confidence. It shouldn’t be this difficult; Adrien is as human as she is, and Ladybug is as much apart of her now as during the photoshoot. Her confidence is quickly fizzling out, and the crippling fear that she is going to make a fool of herself during the dinner Adrien has so kindly offered begins to weigh down her chest. Adrien is a good person, she knows, good, kind, wonderful, talented, smart,  _ handsome… _ The list of all the things she’s ever been able to compile about him feels vast and endless. ‘Intimidating’ isn’t anywhere on it, and her confidence takes another hit when she tries to make sense of why it’s so  _ hard _ to talk to him.

Her distress is palpable, or it must be, because she feels a series of soft taps against her thigh. She glances at Adrien, then down, and spots bright blue eyes and tiny fists wiggling at her in encouragement between the open crack in her purse. Small though the gesture is, Marinette’s tense shoulders relaxed slightly and she nods once to confirm she’s seen Tikki and carefully snaps the bag shut. Her eyes lift and she looks to Adrien, who is leaning against the door and peering out the window with a pensive expression.

Somehow, she’s the one making _ him _ nervous, and the irony of it almost makes Marinette laugh. Almost.

“Um…” Marinette begins and fidgets in her seat as Adrien’s head snaps up to attention. “I, um… is your photographer always so… energetic?” she pauses briefly and wonders if she’s sounded rude, then quickly continues. “I mean, Alya and I have seen him in the park during a few of your shoots and he’s so… animated.”

Relief washes over Adrien’s face as Marinette speaks and he sits up and nods in amusement. “Usually,” he nods and chuckles weakly. “I mean, he was pretty sedated today, normally he’s much more… out there.”

“And… the spaghetti?”

“...Actually,” Adrien looks at Marinette with a serious expression and leans in closer. “I heard from the makeup team that he married spaghetti back in Italy.”

“He--what?”

“In a chapel.”

“But…”

“Parmigiano-Reggiano was his best man.”

_ “Adrien!” _ Marinette’s eyes widen as he grins, a playful sparkle in his eyes as she reaches over to give him a light shove. “Don’t make fun of him!” Her tone is scolding, but her own grin betrays her as she tries to fight a laugh.

“Sorry.” Adrien’s grin widens and Marinette suspects he’s not sorry at all. “But… it wouldn’t surprise me if it were true.”

“Love is blind.” Marinette tuts and turns to face Adrien better. “You shouldn’t judge people for who or  _ what _ \--” she pauses and raises her hand when he looks ready to laugh again. The movement feels so natural, so fluid, she almost doesn’t register the shift of her arm and the pad of her finger connects with Adrien’s nose. “--they love, kita-a-aaah!” 

The rest of her sentence is lost in something between a wail and a yell. Marinette recoils her hand as if burned and freezes under Adrien’s gaze like a frightened deer. Her lips move wordlessly as she struggles to form a coherent explanation for what she’s just done, but any excuse she can think of involves her masked identity and as much as she loves that Adrien seems to adore Ladybug, she can’t give that away. 

Adrien, it seems, is no better off and meets her panicked gaze with one of his own. His nose tingles from her touch and pulse has increased to a frantic, familiar flutter. Black spots on red dance across his mind and for a brief moment, his mind slips away as he imagines a mask on Marinette’s face and he swears his heart stops. Bluebell eyes, dark pigtails, a beautiful smile -- they’re both so similar, so  _ warm.  _ It stirs something in the back of Adrien’s mind, but the thoughts are brought to a clumsy halt as Marinette finally finds her voice.

“I-I’m sorry, A-Adrien,” she chokes and curls her fingers into a loose fist the holds against her chest. “I didn’t mean to--did I h-hurt you? I’m sorry.” God, she’d touched him. She’d  _ touched _ him. She just  _ booped _ Adrien Agreste on the nose; the same way she did to Chat Noir and now her floundering was just making it all the more awkward.

“No…” Adrien’s voice is soft, just barely above a whisper before he regains his composure and clears his throat. “No, I’m okay. I was just… surprised.” He smiles and hopes it’s enough to assure her. “Really. It’s alright.”

“O-oh…” Marinette’s shoulders relax and her throat no longer feels as if her heart has found a new home in it. Her hands tremble and she grips them together tightly in the hope that Adrien won’t notice and tries to return his smile. “I--good. That’s… good.” 

In that moment, Marinette wants nothing more than to melt into her seat and fall to the street below. To hit the pavement and be little more than a puddle of shame and hope that, maybe, someday Adrien will forget how utterly ridiculous she just was. She could come back to defend Paris as Ladybug then return to her new home on the ground. 

So lost in her daze, Marinette doesn’t notice as the car stops and the curbside door opens. Adrien is out before the Gorilla can so much as open his door and holds the door open with one hand while offering the other. “Marinette?”

“Huh?” Marinette looks up in alarm and feels her stomach plummet; her hopes to help alleviate her clumsy embarrassment were disappearing before her eyes. Her gaze falls and she reaches out to take Adrien’s hand, the thought of being near him overshadowed by how much of a fool she feels as if she’s making of herself. “...thank you.” Her voice is soft, just barely a whisper as he helps her out of the car, and her best guess is that he doesn’t want to be seen with a girl who falls flat on her face.

“It’s no trouble,” Adrien insists and Marinette wants to cry at just how kind he is. No matter how big of a spectacle she makes, he’ll never blame her for it. That’s just not who Adrien is. “Shall we go inside?”

Marinette nods; she doesn’t trust her voice and she doesn’t want to add a squeaky tone to her already horrifying episodes.

When they reach the door, Marinette barely has a moment to reach out before Adrien is already holding it open. His smile is too inviting to ignore and she hurries inside with a bowed head. Turning down his gesture at this point would be rude, and she’d be lying if she said the attention wasn’t pleasing. She’s wanted this for so long, now that she has it, it’s almost overwhelming. Every action could make or break his interest, and the thought of Adrien seeing her as the same uninteresting, clumsy, and bumbling girl she feels like she is whenever she compares herself to Ladybug is heartbreaking. It’s obvious enough that he’s completely amazed by Paris’ spotted hero -- who isn’t? -- she barely knows how to comprehend it all.

It doesn’t take long for them to acquire a table, and much like the door, Adrien is first to act and pulls her chair out with another dazzling smile. Her heart flutters in her chest as she sits down and it takes all her control to not to release the wave of warm giggles building in her chest. Alya would be having a fit if she knew where Marinette was right now, and the slew of excited text messages are the only reason she hasn’t yet said anything. Adrien has already commented before that she’s very quiet; hiding her nose behind her phone wouldn’t help.

Unfortunately, or perhaps more fortunately, her second method of hiding is soon taken away when a waitress comes and goes after noting their orders, and Marinette is left with nothing but her hands as they dance nervously in her lap. Everything she can think of to say sounds ridiculous or boring, and her eyes lock with the tablecloth as her nerves get the better of her. This isn’t how she had hoped to act. She’d done so well earlier; she’d had moments of brilliance where channeling Ladybug as Marinette had been as easy as if she’d been wearing the mask. She doesn’t understand how it seems to come and go as frequently as waves upon the shore.

Across the table, Adrien is doing no better. Marinette’s silence can mean a number of things, but her record of fumbling around him and being unable to talk works against his confidence. He’s been hated before, certainly, but the idea of  _ this _ girl hating him grates at his nerves and insides with such a fierce veracity he can barely form a sentence himself. It was the  _ kind _ response to help at the photoshoot, the  _ polite _ response to accept his invitation to dinner, and  _ proper _ to thank him for all of it. She must want to be at home, and the thought makes his stomach plummet. Why couldn’t she be as comfortable around Adrien as she’d seemed to be around Chat? To share with him that fiery spirit he’d gotten glimpses of that were so familiar, so  _ natural _ , it was like he was racing across rooftops without needing a mask at all.

“Ugh…” A weight shifts against Adrien’s chest and he looks down. Two glowing, narrowed eyes peer back at him and he watches as Plagg points to the floor. “You’d better drop me something good,” he whispers and tumbles down Adrien’s side. “I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry…” Adrien mutters in response and almost jumps when Marinette looks.

“I’m sorry?”

“I, uh…” Adrien winces and fights the urge to try and find Plagg’s tail with his toes. “I… I was just saying I hope you’re hungry! The food here is delicious. I just… don’t often get the time to enjoy it.”

“Oh.” Marinette nods slowly and tries to relax her smile and still her hands. “I’ve… never been here. But I know my parents have. Mama likes coming for lunch.”

Beside Adrien’s shoe, Plagg snorts at the stiff conversation above. “That was just bad.” he shakes his head and rolls onto his back to stare at the unpolished underside of the table. “I can’t believe she keeps falling for his awful lies. They’re both idiots.”

“What you say about your chosen isn’t my business, but don’t insult mine. She’s really nervous right now!”

The new voice makes Plagg jerk and tumble into the air as he tries to properly regain his ability to float. His gaze is locked on the bright, beautiful eyes just barely a few inches away and it’s all he can do not to  _ beam _ . “Yeah, well, she’s the one who fell for it so easily.” He shrugs and tries to glance away, but it only takes seconds for his eyes to float back. 

“Adrien isn’t much better.”

“Hey, my kitten is awesome!” Plagg protests and crosses his small arms in defiance. “A bit slow upstairs sometimes, but… What about you? Your Ladybugs are usually so  _ smart  _ and figure it out first. Why hasn’t she this time, Tikki?”

“She’s getting close!” Tikki protests and fails to hide a pout. “She’s just… hasn’t put both sides together yet.”

“Uh-huh…” Plagg smirks and tilts his head. Each sentence has slowly brought the two bodies closer at the center of the floor and they’re close enough that Plagg can flick his tail and brush it against Tikki’s arm. “Face it; my boy is going to find out first this time.”

“You didn’t have this much faith in him a few minutes ago.”

“Yeah, well…” He shrugs and tilts his head. “Sometimes a little bad luck is all anyone needs. And with the way those two are stumbling around, I bet he’ll walk in on her changing back on accident and then this can all be  _ over _ .” Plagg huffs and flicks his tail again. “They’re both so worried about stupid things. They should just sit down and share the truth over cheese. It’s much better.”

“You haven’t changed at all…” Tikki sighs and shakes her head slowly. “You’re addicted to soiled, smelly things.”

“I am not!”

“If I had cheese  _ crumb _ I could get you to do almost anything.”

“Psssh, no you couldn’t! I’m not that desperate.” Plagg’s smirk shifts into something soft and Tikki feels her chest grow warm at the look she hasn’t seen in  _ years. _ “I’d take you over camembert anyway,  _ bugaboo _ .”

Tikki beams as she throws her weight against Plagg’s and sends them tumbling across the floor. “Good,” she giggles as they roll and she -- luckily -- lands on top. “Because you’re still sweeter than cookies.”

The soft trill of laughter reaches Adrien’s ears and his body goes tense. He fights the urge to look down and hiss something under his breath, but Marinette still looks too nervous and he doesn’t want to make things worse than they already are. More than anything, he wants to see that fiery, fun Marinette he kept getting glimpses of.

“I should thank you,” he begins and tries not to stumble over how awkward he sounds. “For today, I mean. You really saved the day. My father hates when things get cancelled more than when plans get changed, and I know everyone will love it.”

“I… of course, Adrien.” Marinette’s gaze softens and falls to the table, but her words don’t have their normal tremble and to Adrien, that’s a step in the right direction. “It was terrifying, but… I couldn’t just leave you alone like that.”

“Maybe not, but they didn’t really give you a choice either.” Adrien laughs quietly, the sound breathy and uncertain. “I saw how they dragged you away… I’m sorry I didn’t step in.”

“What? I--n-no!” Marinette shakes her head so quickly her pigtails bounce off the edges of her cheeks as her eyes grow wide. “Really! You don’t have to apologise at all. I mean, it was an amazing experience and I got to see a lot of amazing things and--they make adjustments on clothes so quickly! I don’t know if I’ll be at that level anytime soon, but it’s  _ you _ , so I’m really glad I did it.”

“I… because of me?” The words make Adrien’s heart flutter as a slow grin spreads over his lips. “Oh?” His grin grows as he leans against the table, feeling his hidden confidence start to rise. “Why madame, I had no idea you were a fan of my work. I’m honoured that the great designer Dupain-Cheng has time for a catwalker like me.”

“I-- _ what? _ ” Marinette’s jaw drops as she stares at Adrien in awe. He was  _ honoured? _ “What are you--who  _ doesn’t _ like your work? Adrien, you’re  _ amazing! _ You’re really good at what you do and completely gor--ahhuumm…” Her last word is lost in a garble of sounds as she tries to choke back the ‘gorgeous’ that almost slipped out. 

Adrien, however, is thrilled he’s managed to put a hole in the wall between them, but her words leave an uncertain feeling lingering in the air. Praise he’s accustomed to, but it’s to be expected. His father would settle for nothing short of perfection. “I’m just the model,” he insists, and tries to sound nonchalant as a heavy feeling settles in his chest. “It’s easy to stand still and pretend to look good. But my father and the team do all the real wo--”

“It’s not pretend at all!” Adrien jumps as Marinette scrambles for a word that is both the truth and not a full confession. Words tumble clumsily through her mind before they fly off the track in a complete trainwreck of thought and she speaks without thinking. “It takes a lot of hard work to stay in shape and hold still and know what pose works where! If you hadn’t been there today I would have ruined  _ everything _ . A-and you’re  _ pretty.  _ Like, really pretty--I mean, handsome--I mean… well, I mean both, but… You’re really--I mean, they say clothes make the man, but I think you make the clothes! I mean, you make them look good on you because you’re--ohno.” She groans and buries her face in her hands in a moot effort to try and hide away. If she hadn’t made a fool of herself yet, she’s certain she’s managed it now. Adrien is more than likely holding back his laughter -- or maybe even  _ disgust _ \-- at her display. When neither come, she peeks uncertainly through her fingers and sees something she never imagined she’d ever have the pleasure of enjoying so close when she wasn’t dressed in spots.

Slow, but sure, dark crimson blooms across Adrien’s cheeks and down his neck. His eyes are wide, his lips parted in surprise as his responses die in his throat and he stares at Marinette as if he’s somewhere between awe and gratitude. His heart feels light in his chest and his pulse flutters with pleasure in a way it has with only one other person in his entire life. It’s almost dizzying and he stop the overwhelming  _ want _ to learn over the table and pull Marinette into his arms and just not let go.

“Marinette…” Adrien begins, but his words are cut off before they can start by plates being set on their table and a few comments from their bubbly waitstaff. His awkward attempt to respond is lost in the first few bites of their food and the atmosphere starts to settle into the familiar one they know from the bakery.

“Do you have any more appointments today?” Marinette asks in a soft tone and turns her fork over absently in her grasp. “I don’t want to keep you if--”

“Nothing else.” Adrien cuts her off quickly with an assuring smile. “I’m free for the rest of the evening.”

“Oh… that’s, um, that’s good.” Marinette pauses and looks at her food before raising her face with a determined gaze. “Mama and papa haven’t seen you in a while. I was just thinking, if you had time… you could come in and say hello? If there’s anything leftover for the day, I might even be able to send you home with something.”

“Really?” Adrien can’t stop the eager tone as he perks up in his seat and begins to nod. Kind people and delicious pastries; there’s nothing to say no to. “Sounds  _ purrfect _ .”

The moment he says it, they both freeze. Panic overtakes Adrien’s mind as he watches Marinette’s face fly through a number of expressions from shock to curiosity to confusion before finally setting on something close to exasperation. 

“Oh no…” she sighs and feigns a groan. “Not you too.”

“Too?” The panic begins to fade away as Marinette takes a bit and meets his gaze with a small, but warm smile.

“A… friend of mine uses them too. All the time.” She tuts, but for as irritated as she’s trying to appear, he can’t help but note the warmth of her tone and Adrien feels his heart flutter again. “He’s a dork of an alleycat, but… I guess he’s pretty funny. Not that I’d ever tell him that. His head doesn’t need anymore air in it.”

“He sounds pretty  _ pawsome _ .” Adrien grins as Marinette groans again. “Aw, come on. You just admitted you liked them.” He takes a moment to glance around their table and his gaze moves over Marinette’s plate, then up to her face. “Maybe I’m trying to  _ butter _ you up.”

“Adrien--”

“It’s just a  _ treat _ to  _ milk _ them for all their worth.”

“That wasn’t even a joke!”

“They give me this happy  _ feline. _ ”

“Are you serious right now?

“I’m not even  _ kitten _ you.”

“I can still walk home.”

“You just  _ whisker _ you could make puns like this.”

Be it just how terrible the joke was or the all-too-pleased grin on Adrien’s face, it only takes a moment or Marinette to peel into a rush of giggles she tries desperately to muffle behind her hands. Her eyes sparkle with tears from the effort of trying to swallow her own amusement, but she only succeeds in half-choking on her drink and thunks her head down on the table with trembling shoulders.

“Those were  _ awful _ ,” she gasps once she finally has control again. 

“What? No way!” Adrien gasps and brings a hand to his chest. “I’ve never told a  _ clawful  _ pun in my life.”

Another choke follows a mix of giggles and hiccups and Marinette motions wildly for him to start before she  _ really _ chokes. The warmth in Adrien’s chest only doubles at the sight, and just for a little while,, Paris, homework, his job, the world… everything disappears. All that’s left is his food, the table, and the wonderfully beautiful girl in front of him.

* * *

“R-really?” Marinette’s mouth falls open as she leans closer to Adrien and carefully balances herself against the movement of the car. “There’s no way…”

“I’m serious,” Adrien laughs quietly and lets his head fall back against the seat. “I guess I always had the right look, but when I first started modelling I was awful. I could never get my smile right or hold a pose long enough. It drove a lot of the photographer’s batty.”

“You were just a kid,” Marinette insists. “That’s normal. No one is perfect when they first start something, but…” The car stops and her words are cut off when the Gorilla opens the door and steps aside. She doesn’t remember him moving at all, and Adrien seems just as surprised when he shrugs and crawls out first to offer Marinette his hand again. The gesture is second nature to Adrien, she’s sure, but it doesn't stop the faint flush from gracing her cheeks when she steps onto the curb.

His hand leaves her’s all too soon and she almost wants to reach for it again when he steps to the door. She already knows what he’s going to do, and with a small burst of speed and quick footwork, Marinette grabs the door before he can and pulls it open with a cheeky smile. The surprise in Adrien’s eyes is more than worth the faceplant she nearly suffers from tripping on her own two feet. She only wants to revel in the ways she can make Adrien react she’d only dreamed of before.

“After you.”

With a slight smile, Adrien steps inside and Marinette joins immediately after, and they are both assaulted with a bizarre aroma of sweet and the sharp tang of cleaning supplies. Tom, behind the counter, is easy to spot and scrubs away at the polished surfaces with a rag when he looks up to greet them with a smile and nod. Sabine is knelt in front of the display and wipes the glass with quick, easy strokes that make the already clean glass sparkle.

“Hello, mama, papa,” Marinette waves and moves away from the door to glance around. “Did anything happen?”

“Not at all,” Sabine pauses mid-stroke to turn and properly face the children with an inviting smile. “It’s just that time of year again.”

Before he can ask, Marinette notes the confusion on Adrien’s face and immediately jumps in with a short explanation about the soon-to-be health inspection. It’s not the first time she’s seen her parents like this and she knows it won’t be the last. The fact that they’ve gotten so many large orders as of late has made it harder to keep up with the cleaning, but they’ve never once complained -- something she can’t help but admire.

“Are you two headed upstairs?” Sabine asks, “I can send your father up with snacks.”

“I--well…” Marinette trails off and looks at Adrien. She’d only intended to say hello, and while she doesn’t want to send Adrien away so soon, she doesn’t want to leave the entire job to her parents either.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Adrien asks and looks around, as if looking for cleaning supplies to pick up. 

“What?” Sabine looks as surprised as Marinette feels, but her expression melts into something warm and she shakes her head. “No, no… That’s alright. I’d hate to interrupt your date.”

“M-mama!” Marinette blushes heavily as Tom and Sabine laugh. Adrien’s own cheeks have taken on a rosey hue, but he makes no effort to deny Sabine’s assumptions. It does nothing to help Marinette’s rapid pulse.

“I don’t have to be home for a while,” Adrien insists and moves further into the bakery. “I don’t mind at all. You’ve all been so welcoming to me lately, it’s the least I can do for all the ‘bonus’ pastries.”

“I knew there was something I liked about this one,” Tom grins and offers Adrien his rag. “You should keep him around, Marinette.”

“Papa!”

“Come on, dear,” Tom wraps an arm around Sabine’s waist and pulls her closer to his side. “Why don’t we take care of cleaning in the back? These two can handle some glass and counters.”

“Are you sure…?” Contrary to the uncertainty in her voice, the look on Sabine’s face says the help is more than welcome and Adrien answers by taking the rag she’d been using moments ago.

“It’s no problem at all,” he insists. “Really.”

“Well… alright then. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to come get us.”

“We’ll be alright, mama.” Marinette steps forward and takes one of the rags from Adrien. “It’s just cleaning.”

“Just remember,” Tom begins as he guides Sabine to the ovens and glances over his shoulder with a wink. “We can hear just about any noise you make. So you’ll have to save any tomfoolery for upstairs.”

“PAPA!” Marinette’s eyes go wide in alarm as Adrien nearly spills the bucket of cleaner down his front. “W-we’re just going to  _ clean! _ ”

“Of course, of course,” Tom nods and barely conceals a laugh. “You two have fun now.”

Silence falls over the two teens as they wait for Marinette’s parents to finally slip into the back. Adrien’s cheeks are doing a lovely impersonation of tomatoes and Marinette is no better off. She looks apologetic as she finally builds the courage to meet Adrien’s gaze, but he only smiles back in response. He’s much too forgiving, she thinks, or maybe his sense of humour is just a little too close to her father’s -- a thought she shudders to consider. Between Chat Noir and her father it’s difficult enough to survive the never-ending storm of terrible puns. Adding Adrien into the mix is just an accident waiting to happen -- especially since Adrien can interact with her father.

“So, are things normally this hectic when the inspection comes around?”

“It can be.” Marinette sighs as she settles down to start where her mother left off. “I think this time is just extra hard because of how busy things have been.”

“I heard Alya and Nino talking about that,” Adrien muses and re-dampens his rag with solution and sets to work again. “She’s been worried about you overworking yourself with everything.”

“She would…” Marinette sighs and stands as she reaches the end of her current display. “But it’s not nearly as bad as she makes it out to be. I can’t imagine what her mother has to face when stuff like this comes up.”

“At the hotel?” Adrien asks and gains a nod in response. “I’ve been there a lot, but I couldn’t say. I’m not usually allowed in back -- Chloé likes to keep me busy.”

“Oh… does she?” The atmosphere shifts almost immediately and Adrien wonders if he’s stepped on a landmine. He knows the two of them don’t get along, but the subject hadn’t struck him as a taboo -- though he would admit he’d never brought it up with Marinette before. He is grateful, at least, that Marinette is so much more graceful in her distaste and makes no efforts to change the subject. He has a feeling she wouldn’t if he kept going.

“Sometimes,” he continues vaguely and shrugs, “but honestly, I try to avoid it. Chloé is…” he pauses, then smiles sheepishly, “well, I guess she’s changed a lot growing up. But I really like it here. There’s always something fun to do.”

When Marinette looks up to question what he means, her face is met with a splash of water and she shrieks in alarm. It doesn’t take long for droplets of water to fly between them between rolls of laughter.

* * *

By the time Natalie calls and demands that Adrien returns home before anyone else starts to worry, the sun has already set, but they both feel as if it’s much too soon. Marinette joins Adrien outside the bakery with a small box of goods to share between himself and the Gorilla on the way home.

“Thanks for all the help,” Marinette smiles as the Gorilla pulls the car back up and waits for Adrien to run over.

“It’s no problem.” Their fingers brush as Adrien takes the box and a jolt rushes through both their bodies. Neither seems to find the right words to say and an odd feeling fills the air. Each time Adrien’s lips part, his words seem to evaporate because they can form and Marinette makes the same struggle.

“Thanks for staying for the shoot.”

“Thanks for dinner.”

Smiles melt into laughter as Adrien shifts his box of goodies into one hand and uses the other to gently take Marinette’s. There’s no time for her to question his actions and he lifts it up and bends, meeting her halfway with lips to the dorsum of her hand. “...I’ll see you tomorrow, Marinette.” He doesn’t wait for a response as he turns away and rushes back to the waiting car. His heart is pounding in his chest and his emotions are somewhere between terror and elation. He can’t think, not properly, and all that’s clear in his mind is  _ Marinette _ and how she makes him feel like, in that moment, he could take on absolutely anything.

Marinette can only stare as Adrien takes off.  Her pulse roars in her ears as she stares down at her hand and feels a familiar sense wash over her. There’s only been one person who has ever tone that to her before, and she’d never forget that feeling -- that sensation. It’s too distinct, to  _ him _ , and Marinette doesn’t know what to think or do. A cheeky grin and brilliant green eyes framed by a mask of black dance across her thoughts, and she tries to make sense of the warring image between it and Adrien Agreste, because now, she’s been kissed by two idols of Paris and she can’t ignore the way they made her both feel.

Tomorrow, she thinks, and turns to hurry back inside. Tomorrow they can talk about this and everything else, and hopefully things will finally make sense again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have ya’ll seen the food at Comptoir de la Gastronomie? because it looks delicious. The whole little shop-restaurant (because I cannot remember the proper word for such a combo at the moment) looks so cozy and lovely, and gosh that menu. Makes me want to fly away to Paris now. Unfortunately, I’ve never been to this restaurant and reviews about it didn’t exactly help in regards to if there are servers or how things work, so I had to take a few creative liberties in that regard. 
> 
> Also, I have no idea how restaurants clean for inspection in France. I have had a number of food service jobs in which we had special sanitation buckets that were cleaned and refreshed every few hour (with clean rags to go with them) but far be it from me to know if that’s an international thing. Googling didn’t help much in that regard, but cleaning a table is cleaning a table. So. It might just come down to what supplies are used as opposed to a variation of how, but digress. 
> 
> Again, my deepest apologies for how late this chapter was, but hopefully it’s length made up for that. I’m really excited because parts I’ve been eager to write for ages are coming up. Huhuhu...


	8. Chapter Seven

A few months ago, it would have been perfectly normal for Alya to see Marinette walk up to the school alone. Given the stone’s throw length between the bakery and their school, more often than not they just met at the bottom of the steps. The sight of Marinette and Adrien together, however, had been much more common, and Alya had more than willingly spent the moments before class speaking with Nino to give her best friend that extra bit of time alone with her  _ would-be-but-simply-won’t-just-ask-already-dammit-all-Marinette _ not-boyfriend. So when Marinette joins her and Nino by herself in a daze, Alya is understandably concerned.

“Mari?” Alya frowns and immediately halts her conversation to move closer to her friend. “Hey, I haven’t seen you on a solo walk for a while now. Is Adrien running late?”

Marinette doesn’t reply, and Alya feels her concern grow as she waves one hand before Marinette’s face and grips her shoulder with the other. “Marinette!”

“H-huh?” Marinette jerks and tumbles out of her daze to stare at Alya with wide, curious eyes. “Alya? I--oh… Sorry. Must have zoned out. What were we talking about?”

“We weren’t.” Alya’s frown deepens and her eyebrows draw together. She leans forward, uncertainty in her gaze as she tries to search Marinette’s appearance for  something that might explain why  she’s so out of it. No paler than normal, bags no darker than normal, and no other signs of illness. Which means it all has to be in her head -- or maybe it’s just because a certain blond classmate isn’t there. “You sure you’re okay, girl?

“I’m fine!” Marinette insists and tries not to shrink under Alya’s sceptical gaze. “Really, I’m okay. I just--”

“Miss Adrien?” Alya provides with a knowing smile and leans against the railing of the stairwell. “Geez, if I knew you two were going to end up as one of those addicted lovey-dovey couples, I would have tried to do something. That stuff isn’t healthy.”

“What? No!” Marinette scrambles as she waves her hands in front of her face. “Alya stop! It’s not like that at all! I… I just meant he didn’t say anything this morning and he usually says something if he’s going to be late.” What if he was ill? Or gotten injured? Or trapped in an akuma attack the Ladyblog had somehow not heard about? “I was just worried.” Or what if, just maybe, he regretted his actions from the night before -- or she’d managed to scare him off during dinner? What if he realised she was just plain, clumsy Marinette and he wasn’t interested anymore? It’s not like she could wow him the same way she seemed to as Ladybug.

“Why not ask Nino?” The obvious practicality of Alya’s suggestion rips Marinette from her worries and she almost feels ridiculous for having not thought of it herself. Nino always seemed to know exactly where Adrien was and how to find him -- he knew his best friend’s schedule almost better than Marinette herself.

“That’s brilliant!” Marinette beams and throws her arms around Alya’s neck as she bounces on the balls of her feet. For a brief, wonderful moment, her fears are eased and, maybe, she’ll find an answer. “You’re the greatest!”

“I do try,” Alya nods with a grin and gives Marinette a small push toward the stairs. “Go on then -- just try not to run anyone over on your way to class.” 

Marinette doesn’t need to be told a second time, and she’s already halfway down the hall by the time Alya reaches the door. When she finally stands outside the classroom, Marinette can’t help but pause, unease settling in her stomach as she reaches for the handle.

When, she wonders, had she become this jumpy? Adrien has always been a point of affectionate fascination for her, of course, but her handling of it is borderlining something else completely. People get sick, people get busy, and people sometimes miss class. What happened last night was irrelevant for today, and just because Adrien wasn’t there didn’t mean it was her fault at all. 

After all,  _ he _ had been the one to kiss  _ her _ . On the hand. A normal gesture for a gentleman. There wasn’t any special meaning behind it; surely Adrien, a popular model and proper boy, did it for most any girl. It was just manners.

...right?

Marinette’s shoulders slump as she slips into the classroom and wonders why she’s suddenly let her mind run wild like this. She’s only hurting herself, making mountains of anthills that will ultimately collapse and end in disappointment.

_ But what if? _

“Hey, Marinette.”

The voice tugs Marinette out of her daze and she jumps as she looks up to see Nino waving at her -- unusually alone at his desk. 

“Oh… Nino.” Marinette smiles and tries to relax, her smile not as strong as it should be. “Good morning.”

“Looking for Adrien?”

Marinette almost wants to pout. Between Alya and Nino, she doesn’t know if she should be thankful or upset that she’s that predictable. Or perhaps concerned how easy it is for them to read into something.

“I, um, well…” Marinette offers a sheepish smile and Nino nods in understanding. 

“He had a photoshoot this morning -- something about a reschedule that couldn’t be put off any longer.” He lifts his phone where his screen is displaying what appears to be a text conversation. “He didn’t know how long it was going to take.”

“O-oh. A photoshoot.” Marinette all but falls into her seat and wants to melt into the floor. “Of course.” 

She feels ridiculous as she pulls out her own phone and stares at the screen silently. How easy would it have been to just send him a text and ask if he was alright? It would have taken seconds at most, and a few quick strokes of her finger. Tech savvy or not, she knew how to  _ message _ someone. Though she’d completely lacked the sense to do so.

_ ‘Hope the photoshoot is going okay. It was a lonely walk without you. :(‘ _ Her finger hovers over the ‘send’ button as she wonders if the message is too much. It’s a silly thing to fret about, and she tries to swallow her own frustration as she pretends she is wearing a mask and clad in red. It’s a small push, but a push, and her thumb brushes the icon on the screen before she can hesitate any longer and a soft ‘pop’ indicates her message has been sent. 

“Oooh, sneaking each other text messages before class?” Marinette jumps as Alya slides into the seat beside her and leans over her shoulder to peer at the screen. “Boy, you two really  _ are _ getting serious.”

“We are not!” Marinette’s eyes go wide as she protests and the image of Adrien kissing her hand dances before her eyes on repeat. If Alya ahd known about  _ that _ … “I-I’m just glad he’s alright and not sick. That’s all.”

“Worried.” Alya repeats with a knowing grin. “Oh, of course. Worried about  _ him _ being lonely too.”

“T-that’s not it!” Marinette groans and buries her face in her hands to try and hide the heat building in her cheeks. Alya, she knows, is not completely wrong, but if she says much more, she’ll have to say everything. Her best friend knows exactly what buttons to push for information and she very rarely doesn’t succeed in getting what she wants. “I just--I don’t know. We’re--” 

What they are is, fortunately for Marinette, cut off as their teacher enters the room and she releases a silent sigh of relief. At least for now, she is safe until the lunch period when Alya will try to dig her curious claws in once more. 

For almost the entirety of their lessons, Marinette can feel Alya’s excitement and quick glances in anticipation of figuring out exactly what she has missed. She loves her friend dearly, but sometimes her tenacity as a journalist to find answers can be as terrifying as it is admirable. 

By the time their last lesson comes, Marinette is almost desperate to run. She’d only managed to escape from Alya by hiding up on the roof -- something Tikki had scolded her heavily for -- but Alya knew exactly where she lived. Running away to hide wasn’t an option when neither the bakery or her home were safe from prying eyes. 

Fortunately, her phone goes off, with the call of the final bell and Marinette nearly shouts with relief. An address is all the message contains, and she looks up to see Nino smiling at her with a wink. “That’s where Adrien is,” he explains, “Sorry I didn’t get it to you earlier. Just noticed it, like, a few minutes ago. But he might still be there?”

“Thank you!” Marinette shouts at the same time Alya protests with a loud ‘hey!’ and offers her friend a quick, apologetic grin before sprinting toward the door. Small messages have been missed between her and Adrien all day -- hello, how are you?, class is boring, he actually brought spaghetti today -- and suddenly the idea of wasting more time just isn’t an option.

“You know,” Alya huffs as she leans over the desk to flick the top of Nino’s hat and nearly knocks it from his head. “If you weren’t helping set up my girl with her dream guy, I’d make you pay for helping her escape.”

“Who said it was Marinette I was helping?” Nino answers with a cheeky grin and adjusts his cap. “Maybe I just wanted to steal a few moments with  _ my _ dream girl.”

“Oooh…” Alya laughs and leans further over the desk, close enough their noses almost brush. “That was  _ almost _ smooth. I’d give you a… six-point-five.”

“I’ll take it.” Nino grins and stands up as he jerks his head toward the door. “Wanna grab a snack? My treat. I’ll even walk you home.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were flirting.” 

“Maybe I am.” Nino’s grin grows wider when Alya barks out a laugh and slides his hands into his pockets. It might not be the best diversion, but at least he’s managed to pull it off without making Alya suspicious. If being a wingman could get him paid, he’d be the best in the world.

* * *

By the time Marinette reaches the address Nino has given her, there is no evidence that a photoshoot even occurred. A handful of pedestrians are sitting throughout the park on benches, but no one has a camera and she doesn’t need to look a second time to know none of them are Adrien. Her shoulders slump in defeat, and she can’t even pretend to be surprised. Sprinting across Paris is an easy feat on the rooftops where there is no traffic to stop her -- on foot it was foolish to think she could have made it in time.

* * *

Outside the school, Nino sits quietly with a dreamy look in his eyes and a dazed smile as Alya talks with wild gestures about her latest adventure for the Ladyblog. For as much as he worries about her safety, he cannot deny her passion and drive for all she does is incredible. So lost in his doe-eyed admiration, he barely notices as someone sits down beside him and jumps when he feels a hand on his shoulder as Alya starts to laugh.

“Wh-wha…!?”

“Welcome back, Nino,” beside him, Adrien offers an apologetic smile and pats his shoulder consolingly. “Sorry to startle you.”

“Don’t apologise to him,” Alya shakes her head and crosses her arms. “He was just lost in his own little world. Who knows what he was thinking about.”

Nino’s cheeks colour as he almost says ‘you’ aloud, but Alya doesn’t need more teasing firepower than she already has, and Adrien would have a field day with even a chance to turn the tables on him. “S-sorry,” he coughs and rubs his nose sheepishly. “Guess I did zone out -- but what are you doing here, man? I thought you had a long shoot today.”

“We finished early,” Adrien shrugs and leans back, bracing his weight on his palms against the cement stairs. “I just picked up my assignments.”

“Wait you--seriously?” Nino groans and pulls his hat down over his eyes, “Crap.”

“What’s wrong…?”

“Ugh, Nino! You didn’t even  _ check _ before sending her off?! What kind of help are you?”

“Um--” Adrien begins, but Alya is already pulling out her phone in a huff. 

“This doofus here told Marinette where you were, so she ran off all excited to meet up the moment classes ended. I bet she’s in the park all alone and--”

“H-hey, wait, come on…” Nino tries to protest, “It isn’t  _ that _ bad. It’s not like I sent her somewhere weird; it’s just a park.” Alya’s glare is enough to tell him that very much isn’t the point and he quickly pulls out his own phone, one hand held up in defence. “Don’t look at me like that… I’ll call her and apologise. Really. Right now.”

By the time Nino has his contacts list open, Adrien is already on his feet and moving toward the waiting car. “I’ll find her,” he calls over his shoulder, and both Nino and Alya pause in their respective calls and texts. “I’ll go to the park. Just tell her to wait there.”

In his rush, it doesn’t occur to him that she likely isn’t  _ at _ the park anymore, but he is already in the car before Alya’s has a chance to try and remind him.

* * *

The sky, Marinette thinks, is as dark as her mood. The enthusiasm that had fueled her rush to the park has faded with the once cloudless sky. Like the forming rain, she wishes she could fall to the ground and sink into the cracks of the concrete, following the rigid and broken path until she disappeared into a small faceless stream that would ultimately pull away where she wouldn’t have to be ‘Marinette’ anymore. It’s a dreary, morbid line of thought, but all the little ‘almost’ moments with Adrien have piled up precariously and the park was the final brick that made it all collapse.

Her hopes that yesterday had meant something are slowly starting to break apart, and she wonders if this is the universe’s way of telling her that, no, her and Adrien do not have a chance after all. She should be grateful he’d taken the time to befriend her in the first place, and really, that  _ should _ be enough. It  _ is _ enough, but it doesn’t made the tightness in her chest ease or her sorrow to fade away.

“Marinette…” Her purse clicks open as two large eyes peer up and reflect her own sadness. “Marinette, I’m sure it will be okay. Maybe if we just call Adrien--”

“Not now, Tikki.” Marinette shakes her head and feels her shoulders fall further as she grips the strap of her bag tightly. She shouldn’t be this upset; it wasn’t as if she’d bothered to call or message Adrien to see if he was even there. “I just… I need to walk around for a bit.”

“But the rain--”

“I’ll be fine.” Fine, because maybe she’s lucky it’s about to rain after all. It would ease the sting in her eyes and hide the moisture threatening to spill over and down her cheeks. “Really, Tikki. Keep dry in there. I’ll go home soon.”

When her bag snaps shut with a tiny squeak, Marinette assumes it’s because Tikki felt a similar drop to the one that has just hit her nose. Several more begin to dampen her hair and she prepares for an onslaught of water, only to feel it stop completely as a shadow falls over her head.

“Hey, Mari...” The voice makes Marinette look up with a sharp gasp. “All washed up?”

“Adrien…” Marinette sniffs and tries to swallow the lump in her throat as she spots a familiar umbrella held over her head. Her almost-tears shift into shaky smile as she throws herself forward without thinking and wraps her arms tightly around Adrien’s middle. There is a brief, terrifying moment she thinks she might be pushed away -- Chloe always is -- but when his free arm comes to wrap around her waist and she feels the pressure of his cheek against the crown of her head. “...I feel like it.”

“Yeah… You were looking a little down in the pour.”

“Something… something like that.” Marinette sniffs again and feels Adrien shift against her, but his arm remains firm.

“Aw,  _ hail _ , I was hoping to see you smile.”

The realisation of what is happening hits Marinette a little too late, and she doesn’t bother to hide the scoff that follows. “... _ really? _ ”

“I saw you on the street and wanted to help  _ dew _ out.”

“Where do you even learn all of these?”

“I’m just a comedy  _ storm. _ ”

“You’re a  _ rain _ of terror.”

Without warning, Adrien pulls back to stare Marinette in the eyes, his shocked expression quickly shifting into a rush of light, pleasant laughter that makes the chill in Marinette’s bones fade to something much warmer. The built up tension in her chest has begun to fade, and the ease of confidence that has bubbled up around him so often as of late takes flight in satisfaction. She’s made Adrien  _ laugh. _

“That was great!”

“That was awful.” Marinette protests and rubs her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re a horrible influence. If I start making these awful puns all the time, I’m going to blame you.”

“I think that would be pawsitively clawsome.”

“No.” Marinette scrunches up her face in protest and presses a finger into the center of Adrien’s chest. “Don’t start those again. I get enough of the cat puns from my other friend.”

“Not  _ feline _ it today?”

“Adrien, I swear--!” Contrary to her efforts to scold him, Marinette is positively beaming at him and Adrien returns the expression just as strong.

“Much better.” He nods and reaches up to brush strands of hair buffeted by the wind out of her face. “That’s what I wanted to see.”

“Huh…?”

“You’re smiling again.” Adrien’s hand falls to the side of her face and brushes his thumb just under her lower lip. “It suits you a lot better than a frown.”

“I…” Marinette’s words are lost, stuck in the back of her throat as she stares into Adrien’s  _ very _ green eyes and completely forgets where they are, that people could be watching, and she’s almost certain the passenger door of his driver’s car is still open. “Adrien…?”

“...Can I take you home?” he asks  in a soft voice and his gaze locks with hers as he waits for a response.

“Uhm…” Words are failing her, the jumbled sounds in her throat no equating to a proper sentence, and she settles for a nod as Adrien brightens in response. 

“It’s getting late,” he points out and Marinette nods again. “So… I guess I’ll just have to take you to dinner on the way back.”

Marinette begins to nod for a third time and freezes halfway through the movement, her mouth falling open. “Wha--you--”

“Should we get going then?” He motions to car beside them in the road of which does, in fact, have an open door and a large man behind the wheel watching them closely. “I know a quick little cafe; the food is warm and it never takes too long to serve.”

“O-okay. I’d… I’d like that.” It’s the only thing Marinette can manage to say as she allows Adrien to guide her forward by the small of the back and into the car. It’s a mixed feeling of shocked elation as she pulls her phone from her pocket to let her parents know she’s alright, but the excitement builds as she follows it with a -- mostly -- coherent message for Alya explaining what has happened.

Adrien Agreste has just tricked her into what could be an almost-date, and Marinette’s chest swells with the same elation she gets from swinging across rooftops. Maybe, she thinks, they really do have a chance after all, but for now, whatever this is is more than enough, and Adrien smiling at her is the best she could ever hope for.

* * *

The next day, when Adrien and Marinette enter the room with shoulders pressed close together and pouring over something on Adrien’s phone, the entire classroom is set abuzz. Alya nudges Nino’s arm with such joyful force, he nearly gets knocked from his chair, while across the room a very irritated Chloe is being held back by a worried Sabrina. Her grasp on Chloe’s arms remains firm as she watches with hushed words of assurance and, for once, truly hopes her best friend will not make a scene.

Whispers are hissed back and forth as the scene unfolds, but if Adrien or Marinette have noticed, they don’t address it, and slip happily into the pair of chairs Alya has vacated in the second row, still lost in their own little world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another late update, but hopefully an enjoyable one? They're not technically together yet -- I wouldn't skip out on a confession of some sort after all -- but they're finally getting there. Good on the babies.
> 
> The next chapter is actually the one I've been eagerly awaiting the chance to right, and I really hope I'll be able to get it up within a semi-reasonable amount of time.
> 
> That aside, I'm so insanely grateful for the amount of support I've received on this story so far. I can't begin to express how much it means to me, and as someone battling depression, the comments really do mean the world to me and give me a great reason to smile. So thank you! And I really hope this chapter is of a quality that shows that thanks. :)


	9. Chapter Eight

The moment Marinette had returned home last night, Sabine had known from the way her daughter had practically floated through the room that something good must have happened. Her elated mood had carried her through the evening, and even brought her downstairs a good thirty minutes before classes even started the next morning. Both Sabine and Tom had received hugs on Marinette’s way out the door with two fresh croissants gripped loosely in her hands and a warm song on her lips. Marinette had always been a cheerful girl, but Sabine was determined to use all in her motherly power to figure out what exactly had happened to bless her daughter with such a wonderful mood.

“She seems happy,” Tom comments idly as he carries a large tray to the front of the bakery with a wide smile and sets it on the counter. “She was practically singing down the stairs this morning.”

“Mmhm…” Sabine nods and grabs a pair of tongs to begin putting the fresh pastries away, “and I have a feeling I know exactly why.”

“Ah?” Tom pauses in mid-stride to look back at his wife curiously. “What’s that?”

“Not a _what_ , dear. _Who._ ”

Immediately, Tom’s eyes light as he gives a satisfied nod and crosses his arms. “I like that Adrien boy. I hope she keeps him.”

Sabine’s smile in response is subtle, but pleased all the same as she gives Tom a gentle push back toward the kitchen. “Go on and finish the next batch, dear. The delivery will be here any moment.”

With a hum and a nod, Tom quickly slips into the back without another word and returns to his work. True to Sabine’s prediction -- and he’s learned that his wife’s intuition is never wrong -- by the time he’s finished the next batch of croissants, a knock on the door signals the arrival of the delivery. By the time he has reached the loading door, Sabine has already locked the door for their temporary close until everything has been moved inside and put away.

Eager to get things done quickly, Tom wastes no time in grabbing two of the large sacks of flour and carries them inside as Sabine observes the operation and directs the deliveryman on where things should go. His face is a familiar one, but it isn’t until halfway through their shipment that Sabine gets a good look at the new assistant helping out. She’s never seen him before, and with a friendly smile, she quickly approaches him as a box of utensils threatens to spill off the small pile in his arms.

“Good morning.” She hums pleasantly and quickly rebalances his bundle before taking down another box obstructing his view. “You must be new, hm? Thank you for all your hard work.”

Startled, the man recoils and hugs the box still in his arms closer to his chest, looking around widly. “O-oh, uh, yeah, I’m--sorry. Good morning. I didn’t mean to almost drop your supplies, ma’am.”

“It’s perfectly alright, no harm done.” Sabine smiles and steadies the new boy’s shoulders when he stumbles a second time and places a hand on his box. “I can take this for you if you’d--”

“N-no!” Sabine’s hand jerks back in alarm as she stares at the now very flustered man before her. Before she can speak, he’s already bowed his head in apology and adjusted his bundle. “I… I mean, it’s alright, ma’am. I’m still really new to the job and, well, I want to prove that I’m cut out for all this. I’m kind of a tiny guy, so…”

“Ah…” Sabine nods in understanding and moves out of the way, peering curiously at the box when she hears the contents shift. “This is…?”

“I was told they were plates and cups, ma’am. Paper and plastic. For serving, I’d guess.”

The answer gives Sabine pause, but she doesn’t have long to consider it before she hears a knock at the front of the shop. Worried, she looks at Tom who gives her an encouraging wave and motions to the truck and silently assures her that he’ll take care of the rest. “Just set the box in the corner there; it’ll be out of the way and not a problem for anyone. I’ll figure it out later.”

Sensing her distress, Tom crosses the room and gives Sabine’s shoulder a small squeeze and nods toward the front. “Don’t worry,” he murmurs quietly and glances over his shoulder. “I’ll make sure the new guy leans all the ropes of our humble home.”

“Well…” Sabine hesitates, but another knock pulls her from her thoughts before they can go to deep and Tom gives her a gentle nudge forward.

“I can handle the back.”

“Right…” Sabine nods and begins to move. “Of course. Thank you, dear.” The thought that she hadn’t even ordered any plates or cups is brief, but she doesn’t linger on it. It wouldn’t be the first time she forgot an order -- Marinette did enjoy having her friends over, after all -- and there were more pressing matters to attend to. An extra box of plates wasn’t going to be a burden on anyone so long as it wasn’t a tripping hazard.

When she reaches the front of the restaurant, she opens the shop door and greets the suited man outside with a bright and friendly smile. He is, she notes, another new face, but he quickly offers all his proper identification and offers her a kind expression.

“My boss is ill,” he explains and motions around the bakery, “he’s normally the one who inspects this establishment.”

“Oh… how terrible,” Sabine frowns and presses a hand to her cheek, worried. “I do hope it isn’t anything too bad.”

“Likely not,” the inspector replies and clicks his pen. “Louis is a strong one. He won’t be out for long.”

“That’s assuring to hear,” Sabine hums and steps to the side, making a broad gesture with her arm. “Well then, you’re welcome to anything you need. If you require any help at all, ah…?”

“Damien. Just Damien, please, and I will be sure to call,” the inspector replies with a nod. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Of course, anything I can do to make this easier for everyone.”

* * *

For the fifth time that day, a note lands on Marinette’s desk from a buzzing Alya who is eagerly awaiting an answer for her unaddressed questions. Seeing Marinette and Adrien walk into the classroom together was nothing new -- but the overly affectionate and starry-eyed look was far from the norm. Each note, much to her frustration, had been read, then carefully folded and set aside as Marinette shook her in head rapidly in what Alya could only assume was a silent attempt to assure her that nothing had happened.

Which was a dirty, dirty lie and Alya wanted, _needed,_ to know what was going on. If her best friend had _finally_ managed to snag _the_ Adrien Agreste, it would be the scoop of the year and all their class would be talking about for some time. Not to mention it would be _immensely_ satisfying to see the look on Chloé’s face once she realised she was _not_ the only girl in Adrien’s life and most certainly not the keyholder to his heart. That alone was enough to keep pushing forward, but in truth, her motivations laid elsewhere.

After all, if Adrien _was_ wooing her best friend, _as_ the best friend, it was her job to step in and see that Adrien understood that, should Marinette ever end up hurt, there would be dire consequences. _Very_ dire consequences.

“Mari…” Alya moans under her breath and shoots her desk partner an irritated gaze as yet another note goes ignored. “Don’t you think you can escape, girl. I know all your hiding spots and where you live.”

Marinette’s hands falter in the middle of folding her next note and glances at her best friend. She has, most fortunately, been able to avoid an interrogation for nearly a full week now, but even with Ladybug’s luck, she’s not sure her escape methods will last much longer. Alya has the tenacity of a cockroach, and while that was something Marinette always admired, when that piercing gaze is aimed at her, it’s much less admirable and far more terrifying.

“I…” Marinette begins and feels heat begin to creep up her cheeks as she struggles to form a coherent answer. “Alya, it’s…”

“Marinette! Alya!” Both girls jump as their professor addresses them with a soured expression. “Do the two of you have something you would like to share with the class?”

“N-no.” Marinette sputters in response and tries to sink into her chair as she feels Chloé’s snide gaze before she can even look back. More attention from the girl is the last thing she needs. Especially with the amount of attitude she has been getting for ‘selfishly stealing away Adrikins from the rest of us.’ “We’re sorry--”

“Don’t let it happen again.” The apology is cut off and the lesson resumes before anyone can butt in or say more on the subject -- something Marinette is very grateful for. Chloé’s disappointed expression clearly shows that _she_ had something to say on the matter, something that will hopefully be forgotten as the professor continues.

Yet another piece of paper pokes at Marinette’s elbow, and her expression twists as she gazes at Alya with a pitiful pout that wins her no favours. She’s not going to escape this without help, and as she reaches reluctantly for her pen with a sigh, the lunch bell rings with the promise of freedom and Marinette leaps to her feet.

“I--”

“Oh no, don’t you dare,” Alya scolds, already having caught Marinette’s arm in a firm grip. “You’re not running this time. We’re going to ta--”

“Would you ladies like to join us for lunch?” Adrien’s voice cuts through Alya’s ready-rant and Marinette has never found it so beautiful before.

“We’d love to!” Her answer is so quick and bold that both Alya and Nino are taken by surprise and the need to find answers is temporarily forgotten.

“Well then…” Adrien winks and motions to the door, quickly moving up the step to Marinette’s desk to offer her his arm as he spots Chloé getting up out of the corner of his eye. “Shall we?”

* * *

The inspection, much to Sabine’s pleasure, moves quickly. It doesn’t take Damien long to finish the front half of the bakery and he appears more than a little impressed. The kitchen goes just as fast, and the aroma of bread baking only seems to bring his mood even higher as he takes a moment to inhale deeply and appreciate the hard work that has gone into the food being served upfront.

“It smells wonderful in here,” he comments and notes something down on his clipboard. “I can see why Louis was so disappointed he wouldn’t be able to come today.”

“Thank you,” Sabine smiles and feels the tension that has built up over the week start to fade. All her bad feelings must have simply been the stress of the situation, and her worries are forgotten. “If you wish to take a sample of anything with you on the way out, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“I may take you up on that,” Damien hums, “perhaps something for Louis as well. I doubt he’s been good with his meals. All that’s left is… the back. Your storage room?”

“Dry and cold, yes.” Sabine moved forward and guided Damien through the short hallway that lead to the swinging door that blocked the back off from the kitchen. “My husband is back there now --we just had a delivery earlier this morning.”

“Ah, good. Then I can inspect your ingredients?”

“Of course; I do apologise for any mess. Tom was certain he would get done in time.”

When they step into the back, both are met by the wide grin of Tom as he dabs his face with a cloth. “Hello and welcome!” Tom’s voice is loud, but warm as his eyes sparkle. “Don’t mind me, I’ve just finished up. I’ll head to the front to give you two some room.”

By the time Tom reaches the front of the bakery, a loud, shrill scream sends him barreling right back to the storage area. The inspector stands in the middle of the room with a twisted expression as Sabine remains frozen by the loading door, a horrified expression on her face. Before he can ask what is wrong, a soft noise pulls his attention to the floor, and he nearly shouts himself as he watches several large, hairy bodies dart across the floor.

Rats.

“I…” Tom begins, but no words come to mind. Sabine is already sprinting toward the small cleaning supplies closet for a pair of gloves, and he’s left staring at the slowly reddening face of what was once a man in a very good mood. “Sir, I don’t--I swear to you this has never happened before--”

Damien, as he remembers hearing Sabine say at one point, clicks his tongue and begins to write something down on his clipboard and Tom feels his stomach drop. The situation is souring quickly, and even as he watches Sabine take a particularly impressive and graceful dive toward the floor in order to scoop up two of the loose rodents, he knows this isn’t going to be easy to fix.

“Damien -- ah, sorry -- sir, I…” A foul smell cuts Tom off as his eyes widen in alarm and he turns on his heel and runs for the kitchen. Much to his horror, the croissants in the oven have burned -- badly -- and he glances at the settings and wonders _how on earth_ they had gotten so high. He knows he hadn’t set the temperature like that, but he doesn’t waste time thinking. In a rushed effort to get the ruined confections out, he throws the oven open and grabs the towel from his apron to avoid burning his hand as he grabs the bread tray.

In his rush, he doesn’t notice the towel slip off the stove and fall inside the very, very hot oven as he shuts the door with his hip and rushes the burned bread over to the sink. Damien, unfortunately, has followed Tom back to the kitchen and if his mood had been bad before, it had more than certainly plummeted by now.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he starts again and leans over to open the kitchen window in hopes of easing the foul aroma. “I… this is…”

Damien’s lips press together in a thin frown as he takes down several more notes and flips further into his stack of papers. Tom is left clueless as to what to say. Sabine is the woman of words between the two of them, and he’s the friendly smile. Try as he might, he doesn’t know what to say, and his chest grows tight as he waits for Sabine to arrive from the back.

“Sir--”

“I’m so sorry…” Sabine’s wavers as she comes back out front, holding a heavily tapped box in her arms which Tom assumes has the captured animals. She sets the box down and walks shakily over to the inspector with a pale expression and appears to struggle with reasoning as badly as Tom was. “I… Tom! The stove!”

Wheeling back around, Tom nearly curses aloud as he sees smoke beginning to filter out of the corners of the door and he throws himself toward the fire extinguisher. Sabine is already at the door when Tom is ready to spray and throws it open, allowing dark smoke to pour out and the bitter smell of burnt fabric to hit all of them.

By the time everything has settled, a damp and very displeased Damien stands near the counter, very clearly trying not to lose his temper as he surveys the scene before him.

“This is…” Tom begins, hoping he might be able to reason with the inspector, but the look on Sabine’s face is already telling him it’s pointless.

“A disaster.” Damien snaps, tearing something off his clipboard. “Until further notice, this establishment is to be closed. Another inspector will be arriving within the week to decide what is to happen here. Good day to you both, and I highly suggest you clean this mess up.” There is no room left for argument as Damien storms out the front door and silence settles over the kitchen.

Without a word, Tom crosses the kitchen and pulls his wife into his arms, already sensing the weakness in her legs before she can fall. Soft sobs shake Sabine’s body as she presses into Tom’s chest and tries to find comfort in his embrace. His jaw locks, his expression set into a grimace as he tries to blink back the sting of his own eyes and remain calm. The bakery is their livelihood, their _home_. Never, in all the time they’d built it from the ground up, have they allowed this to happen. Negligence is dangerous, and they are both certain, _so, so certain_ that this couldn’t have been a mere accident.

“H-how could t-this have...?” Sabine’s voice cracks, each word wavering weakly as she tries speak. “We… we made sure that…”

“I know,” Tom rubs her back and shuts his eyes. “I know. We--”

“Tom…” Sabine’s body has gone tense as she looks up with reddening eyes. “Tom, the new delivery boy. I--he brought in an extra box. I hadn’t ordered it but…” Her voices fades out as a new wave of sobs shake her shoulders and she presses closer. Neither of them had thought to check what was claimed to be ‘plates and cups’ and somehow in all the rush they hadn’t heard any noises forewarning of what was to come. Sabine’s instincts have never been wrong before, and her worries about the new employee from before appear as if they have been more than founded. If only he’d watched the stranger a little closer.

As Tom cards his fingers through Sabine’s hair, his thoughts are wild. He should have known better; should have thought to check over once more after the delivery had been put away. But he hadn’t. He’d been too trusting and too careless, and the looming threat left behind by the bitter inspector hovers over of their heads.

Lost in grief, neither of them notice the movement near the window or hear the soft flutter of wings.

 _“Sugar and Spice…”_ The voice makes them both freeze as a chilly, blissful sensation of calm washes over them and all the hysteria seems to stop. _“Someone has wronged you and sabotaged the life you built up together. I can help you find them; help you make them pay. I ask for but one thing in return…_

_“Bring me the Miraculous of Ladybug and Chat Noir!”_

“Of course, Hawkmoth…”

“We’ll stir up trouble--”

“--before the timer runs out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I might have committed some sort of unspoken sin in the fandom. ~~I'm sorry Mama and Papa. It had to be done.~~
> 
> Would anyone believe that this story started off for the singular purpose of letting me akumatize Marinette's parents? Because that's totally true. Somehow it turned into Adrinette fluff along the way (and there were absolutely no regrets about that.) Kind of a short chapter this time, but I didn't want to rush into a battle and end up making it awkward or cutting it short in the middle. It seemed a better cliff-hanger this way.
> 
> But this one time a friend actually _did_ end up dropping a towel in the oven without realising it and shutting the thing without turning it off. Yeah. That didn't turn out well at all. But at least someone had noticed before anyone was hurt. Or the house burnt down.


End file.
